Negotiation & Persuasion
by Master of Sorrow
Summary: Chapter 33 is now on. 22,600 hits. T now, M later. The version when Yuna doesn't tell her guardians Seymour murdered Jyscal, and she forces herself to marry him. All characters I.C. When Seymour wants Spira DEAD, and Yuna does NOT.
1. Sudden Proposal

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy fan-fic

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Introduction

Everybody knows the version of the story when Yuna's guardians find out about Jyscal's sphere carrying the warning about Lord Seymour, following the story he is killed in Macalania temple.

This is the version in which the guardians remain ignorant of Jyscal's sphere, and she alone goes to bargain for Seymour to turn himself in and change his mind, in return for her hand in marriage.

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_ Guadosalam, in the banquet halls of the late Lord Jyscal. Enter Yuna and Lord Seymour, and standing a fair distance off her guardians. The Ronso Kimahri, the one from the past Tidus, Lulu the black mage, Wakka the blitzer, Rikku the Al Bhed and Sir Auron, the legendary guardian of high summoner Braska._

"Like Lady Yunaleska had her Lord Zaon, I wish to be at your side."

The azure-haired half-Guado, with his hands confidently behind his back leaned closer to Yuna's ear and continued to whisper in a husky voice, "I ask to be betrothed to you."

Yuna flinched, her eyes wide open at how sudden and forward the Maester was being, she blushed furiously unable to speak at all.

"... because I feel so much of myself in you. We are very much alike Yuna. Lastly, the reason of my proposal to you is because of the happiness it will bring to Spira."

She was standing too far away from her guardians for them to hear, they watched her, puzzled. She ran to them with her hands over her mouth. To them she looked as though she was sick, or running a high fever. Then she told her concerned guardians what was the matter. They gasped at the news, and threw shocked glances at the Maester, who was still there with his hands behind his back. He responded with a small bow and a slight smile. Tidus looked shocked, Kimahri showed it in the way his tail twitched agitatedly, Wakka had his mouth hanging open, Lulu was tight-lipped as she held Yuna by her arm and motioned for all to leave. Rikku was staring at Auron's apparent indifference.

Outside as they walked with her discussing what had just happened amongst themselves, she thought about his proposal to her. Did he really like her? No, he was doing it to make the people of Spira happy with gossip... even if it were just for a little while. Should she accept? She decided, as long as it does not stop her from continuing her pilgrimage. It did not matter if or not he really liked her, she was going to die anyway. It did not matter at all really, anything to make them happy. Yes, accept his proposal.

She liked him, but it all was gone after she found that sphere that fell from the ghost of Lord Jyscal at the entrance of the Farplane. In her room alone she played it. It was fuzzy and in bad shape, but the dialogue was perfectly intact, it could be heard through the white noise.

She did not know how to react to the horror, or how dangerous a situation she was in. Not wanting panic, she thought to handle all this herself. She would be independent for this once, not needing the protection or assistance of her guardians.

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"Lord Seymour, I have safely escorted Lady Yuna. Shall I bring her in my Lord?"

In the temple of Macalania, from the icy cloister came Seymour's curt reply of affirmation. Quivering more from nervousness than from the low temperature, stepped in Yuna. Her green and blue eyes down-cast as she greeted formally, "Good evening your Grace."

Before he replied, Seymour stood there for a moment staring at her and observing her shyness. Her white-sleeved hands were clutching her summoner's staff. Her knuckles were white. He narrowed his eyes as he came closer suspicious, "You're shivering my Lady, whatever is the matter? I can smell, that you're scared of me."

Yuna squeezed shut her eyes and opened them as she looked up into his. "I request that we be left in private for this conversation."

"Tromell. Leave us." Seymour said simply.

"As you wish my Lord." Bowed Tromell as he politely hurried away, his footsteps echoing off the hard and cold marble floor.

There, alone with no guardians to protect her she said without diplomacy or restraint, "I know you killed your own father, and that you wish death to all those on Spira once you have amassed enough power."

There in the silence that was almost unbearable, in the cloister of trials Seymour quickly hid his shock, turned his back on Yuna and apparently absent-mindedly traced his long fingers on the abundant ice lining the room.

"How is this related to my proposal to you?"

"If you can promise me you will do no harm to the people of Spira forever, and turn yourself in at Bevelle, I will give you my hand in marriage."

"If I refuse?" The half-Guado challenged.

"I will continue with my pilgrimage, and you will never see or hear from me again." Her voice although soft, was hard and serious.

For a long and uncomfortable moment Lord Seymour said nothing in response. Yuna quivered, imagining that he might suddenly snap and viciously attack her. He turned around slowly, "How did you know, did my father tell you at the Farplane?"

"I saw his sphere, how could you murder your own father? Don't you love -"

"Be quiet!" The Maester vented, covering his face and biting his sleeve. Facing her, he declared, "I hate my father. Even in death I still despise him so. I have never loved him. Do not ever talk about him again."

"Maester Seymour, do you accept my terms?"

Breathing heavily, he responded. "I do." By his infatuation he had been blinded by all else, he wanted her that much it felt as though nothing else was as important, even becoming Sin to save Spira. His expression softened as he came closer, uncomfortably closer to Yuna, and he completed his sentence. "On the condition that you discontinue your pilgrimage to attain the final aeon to defeat Sin and bring The Calm."

"But your grace!"

"Because if I let you give your life as a summoner, it conflicts with my promise to you to never harm Spira." He drew away from her and said, "You will see the pieces fit as they come. I leave you now to pray. Since I accept your terms you should not have anymore questions to ask me. You need not answer me right away, but I will know you have turned me down if you leave Macalania temple by tomorrow with your guardians." And promptly, he left the chamber.

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"So what are we gonna do now?" Asked Tidus, "Now that Yuna has quit her pilgrimage to marry that Maester guy?" He shuddered, shaking his head in sustained disbelief.

Wakka scratched his head. "I don't know, I think we should be happy ya?" He said uncertainly.

Kimahri stood in his usual stoic stance with his arms folded, and nodded.

"If it is her decision, then so be it." Agreed Sir Auron, taking a swig of alcohol. "But it's odd, she seemed so determined to complete her pilgrimage."

"I know Yuna though..." Lulu said slowly, "it can't be Lord Seymour who suggested that she quit. Because if it were, she would not have agreed to it - period."

Wakka looked at Lulu and nodded, "Mmm, just that it was kinda sudden and all ya?"

"How can this be happy?!" Retorted Tidus. He looked as though he was about to go manic at any moment.

He was the only one in the entire group that was uptight about the whole thing, the rest although confused, were rather _content_ about it. Rikku was as happy as a clam, and even Lulu was wearing a rare smile. Wakka high-fived Kimahri, who surprisingly was sporting enough to hold out his paw in the air for Wakka. Auron was as usual silent and controlled, as though he was thinking.

"Have you all gone nuts? She's gonna be married to a stranger _and_ be living with him!"

Everyone flatly ignored the blond teenager. Now was not the time to tell him the ultimate fate of a successful summoner.

"It sure was kind of Tromell to let us visit whenever we like!" Said Rikku, jumping about like corn popping.

Wakka cuffed Tidus, warning him to be quiet, and suggested that they return to Besaid to train with the Aurochs at that sunny island, with clear blue water and white sand to get his mind off things.

"I'm gonna go talk to Yuna!" Said the insistent Tidus, "I bet Seymour's got her under some kind of spell!"

The Ronso pushed him back. "Wedding in one week. Yuna surely stressed."

"I can't believe that you guys are taking this so easily! Kimahri, you said earlier that you didn't like him, do something man!"

The serious Ronso turned to face him, still with his arms folded and growled. "Is true Kimahri not like Maester Seymour. But is Yuna's decision, is Yuna's life. Must respect. Yuna not stupid, knows what she doing."

From the back, Auron chipped in, "True. Although she is young, she has her father's spirit and determination. She may have decided that staying with Seymour might make the people happier. I cannot say that I approve, but there is nothing I can do. She has made her choice."

"You guys _are_ nuts!" Yelled Tidus, before the brotherly Wakka had him in a head-lock. "Ow, Wakka let go of me!"

"I guess we stay with her for the night, and tomorrow morning we go our separate ways huh?" Chirped Rikku, "Well, then we'll meet up with Yuna before her wedding. I'll be going home. What about you guys?"

Wakka, still holding Tidus in a playful head-lock replied, "Besaid with Lu, Mahri... and this clown here!"

Lulu turned to Auron, "What about you?"

"I have business to attend to." He said casually, adjusting his high collar.

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The next morning, just as the sun cast its orange rays on the sparkling snow-covered scenery, Yuna and her guardians walked out of the temple. In the distance a pair of blue eyes watched, disappointed. Ah. So she had decided to leave. His sad eyes followed her, and only her as she walked with her guardians only one lagged behind, the male blond teenager. Of course, he had hoped too much. Someone as pure and gentle as she was, could not have mutual feelings for someone as violent as himself.

The night was sleepless and turbulent for him, he was thinking too much of the result in the morning. In the distance he watched her jealously, she was laughing with that Al Bhed girl. He could feel his heart breaking, he fell in love with her the moment he first saw her at Luca and the image of her remained in his mind. No one had ever had that effect on him. He clenched his fists as he watched.

But sadness was gone when he saw his dear Yuna's guardians leave without her. He smiled, and went back into the temple to conduct his lessons with his Guado pupils, his heart light.

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Yuna, with her eyes closed sat praying before her meal in the round marble dining room of ancient Macalania temple. She had been praying for quite awhile now. Longer than she would, usually. Praying was always calming for her, when her mind could relax, and for a moment everything would still. She tried to stop herself from shivering, not only from the cold. She felt more alone than ever now.

She opened her eyes and looked up, startled to see Seymour sitting opposite her. She greeted him hastily and awkwardly.

"I shan't ever hurt you. I understand why you fear me so." He assumed, his gaze steady, "In contemporary society murder of any kind, let alone of one's own parent is frowned upon... deeply."

Yuna remained silent. She did not know how to respond to his blatant honesty, that was almost disgusting. But out of respect she continued to listen to his dialogue, in his docile tenor voice. She looked nervously at him. Staring at his veined face, elongated arms and massive hands. She blinked hard and looked away indefinite and unsure.

But unlike hers, his eyes never left her. She could almost feel her skin burning from his constant staring.

"Lady Yuna, after you are done will you grace me with your company, for a walk in the snow?"

She did not want to go, it was too cold, but she consented. Fearing that she might offend him.

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Macalania temple looked beautiful. Magically suspended with ice that never melted. Cool colours, whites and pale blues abounded. And beneath, was a wonderful view of the deep chasm. Softly the enchanting fayth could be heard singing.

"I hold my promise to you. Tomorrow," said Seymour, "I will turn myself into the court of Yevon for killing my father. You will be the witness and present the sphere you found."

"Thank you my Lord." Spoke Yuna softly, as she tread slowly in the snow with him, "For keeping to your words."

They stopped in the snow, bathing in the light shining in translucent rays from above. Seymour could smell her, why did she always smell different if she was aware of his presence? He cursed himself for being part-Guado. If he were human he would have been spared from smelling the other's emotions. He believed sometimes, in blissful ignorance.

Disguising his insecurity, he asked her point-blank. "Do you love Spira so much? That you will do anything for its happiness? Why?" His breath condensing on the cool air as he said.

She raised her cute face to him and replied without blinking her captivating eyes, "Yes, I do love Spira. Eversince, I could remember I have always hated to see anyone suffer. I want it to end. The dying and fear of Sin. It's terrible to me."

"So much so that although you clearly fear me, even are disgusted of me, for Spira's happiness and safety you are willing to be wed to me for the rest of your life? Why?"

"Although the people aren't perfect, I feel no one deserves excessive suffering. I know I can't stop all of the pain, but the people, no matter how sinful do not deserve to live in the shadow and terror of something as unnatural... and as evil as Sin."

With his hands at his side, for once Seymour kept quiet. His mind was in a blur. One thing stayed clear though, she was to be admired. She was even more disciplined and determined than him! It was humbling. He tried to smell her, then gave up. Finally he looked up, and said, "Please do not speak to me as though I hate Spira... I do not. The cold must be uncomfortable for you. I will ask for Tromell to take you back to Guadosalam before nightfall. You will see me tomorrow morning."

Yuna wondered what did he mean by that. If he did not hate Spira and people, why did he want to destroy it?

As the snow flakes fell, he walked her back into the warmth of the temple, snow crunching under their feet as they went.

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**End Of Chapter One**


	2. High Court of Yevon

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY TEN AND ALL CHARACTERS (EXCEPT FOR ORIGINAL CHARACTERS) BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

CHAPTER TWO

A Final Fantasy fan-fic

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In Guadosalam, amidst the rich wooden interior of her room Yuna knelt on the fluffy moss carpet floor and prayed to the fayth for guidance and strength.

"I am going to be married to a killer, I must do it for the good of Spira, I must stop having these thoughts of turning back or running away!"

A child's voice answered, "You never run away. Continue being strong, and make your dreams into reality. Goodnight, and sleep tight." And the fayth left, fading away into the still and lonely air.

She sat on the bed, hugging herself. The room was horribly silent, and empty. She could not seem to appreciate the beauty of the style and shape of Guado furniture here all by herself. No Kimahri, Wakka, Lulu, Sir Auron. Her cousin Rikku... or Tidus.

For a moment she thought that she could have shown Lord Jyscal's sphere to her guardians, the entire group could have proceeded and pretended to have remained ignorant of Lord Jyscal's murder until they reached Bevelle. Seymour would have remained gracious and kind, she noticed his abrupt change in attitude and behaviour after she told him to confess. What on Spira was she thinking?

Oh, too late then. That night, she was dazed from her rash actions. She managed to fall into a shallow slumber although she was well cared for at her present location, by an unseen attendant.

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Yuna shivered. As she breathed out, she could see her breath fogging the air. She got up, and put on a thick woven cotton coat that was hanging by her bedside. The light was very dim, but it felt like morning. Outside she heard the ambient sounds of Guadosalam waking. There was also, just slightly louder than the ambience, the sound of splashing water. She went to the window and looked out.

In the shimmering stream close-by below, were three nude Guado men bathing themselves in the cold water. Curious, she squinted at the back of the pale figures ,standing waist-deep in the flowing water, leaning forward to rinse their faces with their elongated arms.

She began to blush abit from where she spied them. Yes, Guado did look odd, but not as drastically different as Ronso were to humans. By Yevon, it was like looking at the beautiful sculptures and statues of the fayth, at the temples and cloisters, just that Guado were more slender and refined in build, than the more buff and stockier human men.

As the light got brighter she continued to watch, one had yellow hair, another brown and the last blue. She began to appreciate their wild and dramatic hair, paying attention to particularly one of them, with his fine broad shoulders and tapering torso. Then she noticed other interesting anatomical differences, of sleek grooves running down their waists.

When the one she found most intriguing turned around, and waded out of the stream to dry himself, to her surprise and disgust it was Lord Seymour. She recognised his tattooed chest immediately, and tore her gaze away.

She remained, (much to his frustration and confusion) too embarrassed to talk or look at him until they reached Bevelle in the early evening.

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At the sacred and grand halls of Bevelle, before the supreme court of Yevon, Maester Seymour Guado stood there and confessed in a listless monotone to Maester Kelk Ronso, his act of murdering his own father Jyscal. Yuna played the witness and without hesitation or any delay, Seymour pleaded guilty.

Kelk, obviously shocked asked the witness, "Is this true?"

Yuna bowed and produced the sphere as evidence. As the jury gasped and whispered at the news and horror, Kelk stood up and roared for calm. "Since Maester Seymour is guilty, he faces punishment in the name of Yevon for his sin. The usual punishment is instant death. But because he himself confessed, and is a serving Maester of Yevon the sentence will be lightened."

Attentively the jury and monks listened, as old Kelk continued, "it will be a night in the torture dungeons of Bevelle. Front or rear will be determined by a coin toss."

From the stands, cruel laughter could be heard from a single man. Maester Kinoc laughed, "You may as well have put him to death Kelk. So many have begged to be killed before morning!"

Anxious, Yuna looked for Seymour. He was standing there gravely, but calmly, his eyes shut. As if he were meditating.

"As according to tradition," announced Maester Kelk, "the five-Gil coin will be flipped by the witness. Summoner Yuna, if you please."

Flipped onto her palm, the silver coin showed "tails." From the dark corridor a masked Ronso carrying a leather whip with steel bearings at the end, a hole in his mask to accommodate his horn, growled gruffly, "Maester is lucky, not front."

Red-garbed warrior monks endowed Seymour with heavy barbed shackles, and savagely dragged him to the dungeons.

As a closing statement, Kelk ordered that this incident be kept within Bevelle to protect Seymour Guado's reputation, and to prevent the distrust of the priests of the Temples of Yevon and its Maesters.

As the session at the court of Yevon ended, the Ronso introduced himself briefly to an unsettled Yuna as "Naske Ronso." As he turned to get ready his tools, Yuna called, "wait!"

He stopped in his tracks, turned and looked down at her.

"What will happen to Maester Seymour?"

"Flogging. Witness can come anytime to watch." Replied Naske, testing his hefty whip. "Naske start when sun sleeps." The Ronso then lumbered off as if nothing special had happened.

Yuna stood there frowning. There were so many conflicting factors and emotions turning within her that she could not keep her thoughts together well. Seymour was evil, surely he deserved the punishment and pain...? Before the huge Ronso disappeared from sight, she shouted, "Will he die?"

Without turning round, she saw him shrug and heard a casual reply. "Maybe."

Stressed, she continued to repeat to herself mentally that he should not be pitied or worried about. He is a killer. But she could not, it was not her nature to be callous or cruel. Dinner came and passed, with her person having no appetite to eat. Then bed time, and she could not sleep. Prayer was useless. Walking in the gardens and gazing at the stars did no good either. She _had _to go see him in the dungeons.

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Outside as her dainty feet brought her closer to him, she fought an internal battle within her heart and consciousness. Although she kept thinking of turning back and forcing herself to go to sleep, her disobedient feet did not stop bringing her closer to him.

Before she knew it, she was descending into the foreboding dungeons. She passed empty cell after empty cell, most stained from the blood and bile of the condemned or accused.

It was not difficult to find Seymour, she followed the echoing sound of whip cracking, and hoarse yelling.

Suddenly the noises paused, as she came towards his cell, she heard a voice speaking and recognised it as Maester Kinoc's.

"Naske, stop and pause between each stroke. Or else pain from the old stroke will dull him to the new."

Yuna dared not look, as she paused there with her small hands on her mouth, faltering as she heard another loud crack of the Ronso's whip, and subsequently a sharp cry of pain. Maester Kinoc laughed as he walked out of Seymour's cell, not noticing Yuna standing there. Another whip crack. No sound after. She could not stand it any longer, horrified she ran in.

She had seen defeated and dying fiends in fitter shape than this. The circular chamber like all others, was illuminated by moon light from the top. Chained face-down onto the hard and rough granite floor was the half-breed Seymour.

Unconscious, but still breathing. Barely. Pyre flies were hovering close, signalling a very weak life-force. His elegant satin robe had been ripped off and thrown aside, leaving him in a very humiliating position, bleeding and moreover almost naked.

Towering above the prone Maester was Naske, his whip swinging from his tight paw. At his feet, kneeling next to the bloody half-Guado was a doctor.

He looked up at the fierce Ronso and declared softly, "He is too weak to carry on. Wait for the pyre flies to leave before you commence flogging."

Yuna leant against the wall for support, only to draw back and gasp at the blood smeared onto her hands. _His _ blood. It was everywhere. Splattered in small droplets about the cell, from such brutal lashing. The air smelt thick of sweat, salt and iron.

Naske turned, and said he smelt the witness coming, bowed to Yuna and left the cell. The doctor stood up, and went over to a shaken Yuna.

"Lady Yuna," he whispered, "I would advise you that you watch Maester Kinoc is kept as far away as possible from your fiance." Seeing the confused look she wore, he explained that the delighted Guado were telling every body of their wedding. "Kinoc was suggesting to Naske that he lash his head. Thankfully I know Naske, as he is honourable he will do no such thing. Before I leave, remember that you heard none of this from me." The good doctor made the sign of Yevon, and left.

She fell onto the floor next to Seymour, ignoring the blood. In distress she made to touch him, but thought better, lest she hurt him. His back was covered in whip marks and fresh wounds. Fluids oozing out, shining gore protruding in some places. His blue hair was stained red too.

She noticed that his wrists and ankles had been rubbed raw by straining from his heavy metal manacles that were firmly bolted to the floor. And there still hovered, the pyre flies. Oh by Yu Yevon the pyre flies! It was too much for Yuna. She began to weep, her compassion forced her to.

When the pyre flies left, the hulking Ronso threw salt water onto the convict, causing him to jerk awake from the agony. Young Yuna fled the cell.

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First there would be the humming sound, then the crack, followed by sharp pain covering the already present dull pain. Over and over again the torture routine took place, feeling like monotonous eternity, as if moments before one died from the black magic spell "Doom."

He could see each time, points of light in his vision when the suffering was most intense, the lights would dim, until the next razing stroke from the whip, like hell fire which brought him down to Spira again. It was as though the skin was being slowly pulled off his back, along with tendons and ligaments.

Sometimes it would all go black, and it would feel as though he was falling from an unknown height, his heart in his throat, and then suddenly he would feel something harsh and cold doused over him. Pain again, not worse, but not preferred either.

Seymour struggled to keep awake from the ordeal, his mouth gaping hopelessly as he breathed, losing to the dire weight of his punishment. So much pain, his senses to everything else had been hindered, he could not understand what the Ronso was saying, or asking for that matter. Unlike the first few hours, now he could not even quiver or flinch from the whip every time as it brushed open new excruciating wounds, or opened ones created earlier before in the night.

Again and again the routine of pain blew over him. Never-ending. Eventually he moved no more, exhausted from yelling and struggling. Aware of nothing but the whip.

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Yuna ran to the dungeon the moment she saw the first rays of the sun. She hated to see anyone suffer, even people she was not particularly fond of. She wanted other people to be happy, even at the expense of her own life. It was the trademark of every respectable and sincere summoner.

Her footsteps echoed in the silent place, the dungeon now highlighted in some places with orange morning light.

In the awful cell, the unconscious half-breed was being released from his chains, nearby stood two monks with a stretcher. Standing tall and slightly tired-looking above them, the Ronso bowed to Yuna. "Morning come. Finish. Now pour ceremonial whiskey."

Casually he picked up a wooden bucket from the blood drenched floor, and splashed the entire contents onto the mutually bloody Maester.

Yuna gasped, at the sight of the whiskey mixing with his blood and seeping into his wounds, sopping off his body and made to heal him with white magic, but the monks swiftly stopped her.

"You will not heal him! His punishment is only half over. He is to remain like that for another three days and nights." Snapped the monk.

"But he'll die!" Cried Yuna, wide-eyed and fearful.

"He won't. The whiskey is laced with the magic of phoenix down. Healing will also be faster for him since he is half-Guado. If you make any attempts to heal him with magic summoner Yuna, we will silence you. Potions of any kind are no exception either."

Quietly she watched them place his limp form onto the stretcher. As they did, the Ronso said to her, "Lady Yuna? Him make good husband."

The Ronso cleaned caked blood off his navy blue fur and continued, "Not once did Maester beg Naske to stop, nor let Maester die. Not strong because always black-out, but very brave. Naske is honoured to serve such a man."

"Thank you." Said Yuna, as she hurried out after the monks.

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Helplessly she watched as they put him onto his bed in his private Maester's quarters. As the doors slammed shut, she sat next to him. She wanted to look away from his back, but she could not. His back was a mosaic of wounds, his blood was drying now, so thick in certain parts that it appeared black. In another spot, raw flesh stood out from where the steel bearings struck most often, and if one observed with conviction, a hint of bone could be seen.

So disturbed and distracted, Yuna did not hear the door open, as a healer came in. Knowing that he had best not disturb the mortally wounded Maester, and the clearly distraught summoner, without a word he left hot water, towels and bandages by the door.

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**End Of Chapter Two**


	3. Before and After

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

CHAPTER THREE

A Final Fantasy fan-fic

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There Seymour lay oblivious, while she bandaged his wrists and ankles, she checked his large hands, pink from fever, with a mixture of concern and curiosity. So it was true, Guado did have claws, but unlike the stories, theirs were not at all like those of fiend's. His were powder blue, matching his hair and eye colour. He had very nicely shaped hands, and long beautiful fingers. Turning them over she bit her lip. His own claws had gored his palms, from when he had clenched them in pain last night.

Finishing his wrists and ankles, there was only his hair left to clean. The easiest, but at the same time most disturbing part to do was his back. Yuna felt as though the more she wiped, the more blood and pus came out, although he had clearly stopped bleeding. At some moments she had to stop herself imagining that she was cleaning his actual flesh off. (It looked alot like so.)

With warm water, and a soft cloth she cleaned the blood that had congealed in his hair close to the nape of his neck. It was slow work, dried blood that would not come off she picked out manually with her fingers. With the white cloth that became increasingly stained she stroked his glossy coarse blue hair clean, when the red was gone, she sighed and sat back.

After a moment of thought, she pulled his hair to one side to look at his flushed face. He looked awful, an absolute fright. At least he was not awake to feel the pain!

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A few hours later into the morning, Yuna examined the string of beads that she had to remove embedded from the back of Seymour's neck. They were beads of turquoise, lapis lazuli, sparkling citrine and coral. Earlier she had rinsed the dried blood off, to see them better. Her hands although visibly clean, stank unpleasantly of blood. The stench stayed stubbornly even with repeated washing with soap.

Seymour was still lying on his front, but now bound up in bandages. She listened, as he occasionally let out low and deep sounds of anguish in his feverish sleep. The blue veins on his face were visibly throbbing.

"Yuna." Seymour whispered weakly.

"Your grace! Are you all right?"

"... I am now."

Yuna went over to the side of his bed. "Your voice."

He coughed, tasting blood in his mouth, his lips staining from it. Apparently he had yelled himself more than hoarse, - until his throat bled. When he swallowed his throat clenched uncomfortably. "... worried for you. You... have seen the... The machina ...in Bevelle?"

"You have a fever my lord!" Said Yuna, stopping him from rising off the bed.

Dazed from pain he relented, holding onto her soft hand that was much smaller than his. He felt so cold. As he shuddered, he tried to smell if she had seen the true face of Yevon yet. A hypocritical "religion" that used what was supposedly forbidden. He could not smell her, the pain, there was too much agony. No matter how much discomfort it caused him he spoke again, "... tomorrow... I wish to be present with you when... you venture outside."

When he saw her nod once doubtfully, he relaxed and went back to his black world of sleep. The last thing he felt was her hand, cleaning the blood off his mouth.

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Yuna left Seymour to rest. The horrid images of blood, and his screams still remained, brutally hot branded in her memory. She walked to her guest room, and spent the entire numb morning there. Hoping that the worldly view of Bevelle out her window, of the blue sky and white clouds, highlighted by the rays of the sun would help her forget.

As she sat on a chair holding her hands together, she was sure that she would never forget. How could she? It was the most powerful, and graphic scene she had ever seen in all her seventeen years. The sight of the whip flailing through the air, and coming down onto his bare and bleeding skin. His cries, sharp and haunting as it echoed around that dreadful place of hard and cold masonry. Like all summoners, she had the rare gift of sensing and manipulating the power of the pyre flies. What she sensedthere, what she _felt_ therewas indescribable. Even now she felt as though she was there, still standing there and watching the horror happen mere feet away from her.

Together with the sight of Seymour's flesh ripped open, his blood all over the place with lurking pyre flies. The _pyre flies_. Yuna was positively traumatised and or scarred for life.

There was nothing special about those pyre flies, she had seen many more in one area. But she could not understand, sitting there hugging herself, why did it feel this bad? Why was it so spiritually unsettling and uncomfortable?

There was a knocking on the door. Snapping out of her thoughts, Yuna called, "Coming!" As she went to answer the ornate and heavy wooden door.

At the door stood a purple-haired Guado, in typical gold-lined uniform. He bowed and said in a clear baritone voice, "Lady Yuna, it is lunch time. Shall I take you to the dining halls?"

Yuna smiled, "No thank you, I'm not hungry."

The Guado bowed again, but lower. "Please Lady Yuna, at least come and have tea and biscuits with us? I have orders from master Seymour that you are to be cared for." The Guado paused and added, "He shall be upset when he wakes and finds out that we have not done so."

"Okay." Yuna consented, following the dutiful servant.

Outside the doors of the crowded dining halls filled with lights, the smell of cooking, monks and acolytes, waited Tromell. Delighted by her appearance his wrinkled face creased into a grin, he bowed. "Glad that you could make it Lady Yuna!"

Tromell continued to talk as the two Guado led her to one of the many round marble tables of the noisy hall. At one that was vacant, they sat.

"Please Lady Yuna, do not blame Master Seymour for his actions. Although we are still shaken by his murder of Lord Jyscal, if you would but listen to our story of him. You might understand and forgive him."

Yuna nodded attentively, whilst she ordered tea and biscuits from the menu, whilst the two Guado ordered fruit with pastries.

"You see," Tromell slowly commenced, "from the moment Master Seymour was born he was hated. During that time almost three decades ago Spira was much more conservative. Why, he was considered a monster, an abomination by all classes of the Guado and human alike. A horrendous half-breed.

We guado admit that we are a pompous race, and already at the time the idea of Jyscal marrying a human woman was preposterous, then he had a child with her. Most could not accept that it was possible for Guado and Human to inter-breed. People called Jyscal crazy, a raving lunatic. The people hated her, Seymour... and Jyscal for his decision. We the servants were too, at first apprehensive, but after a few weeks we grew to be fond of his then strange human wife. Jyscal was glad that we eventually liked her, and we welcomed her presence in the manor. She became a part of our family, and we the servants began to hold affectionate feelings for her.

But as the months went by, even patient and wise Lord Jyscal, grew to despise his own wife and little Seymour.."

The other in gold-lined uniform, previously silent spoke quietly above the chatter and noise of silver cutlery clinking in the crowded dining hall. "Arguments fierce, loud and dramatic could be heard in the nights from the master chamber between Jyscal and his wife. Loud enough to wake Master Seymour sleeping in his moss and velvet cradle. Often Tromell or I would have to soothe his tears and wailing in the dead of the night. The silence after the arguments, smelt so cold!

Then months turned to years. Things deproved. Occasionally Jyscal would fiendishly strike either his wife or Seymour for no apparent reason. As lowly servants of the manor, we could not do anything. We just stood and watched like fools.

Most often, he would strike Seymour. If his mother were around, he would run to her. If she was not, then he would run to us instead, quivering and hiding behind us." The purple-haired one turned to Tromell and asked nostalgically, " do you recall we always used to give him shoopuf milk mixed with honey to try and calm him?"

"Yes. Sometimes the boy would hiccup after drinking so much." Replied Tromell sadly, and yet at the same time fondly.

"Lady Yuna, things eventually got so bad that Jyscal sent them away to a remote island known as Baaj. He was just at the tender age of eight. Lord Jyscal claimed that "it was for their own good and safety." Yes, perhaps to be safe from Lord Jyscal himself. Tromell, I and the rest of the manor's servants mourned for weeks after their departure. I. I was almost worried out of my mind, no letters were sent to them, or came from them. When one of his wife's personal hand maidens attempted to send one, Jyscal snatched it from her and stuck it into the fire. Master Jyscal was so full of mixed emotion... he. Well. I shall leave it to Tromell here, who knew Lord Jyscal many more years than I did."

Finishing a piece of fruit, the latter turned to Yuna, (now stunned) and spoke in his usual slow pace, but now it seemed that he sounded more tired than usual. "Lord Jyscal was in fact, although he did not show it angry with himself for giving into society's wishes. But for pride, he put up a convincing show that he did not care the least." He glanced down at his green-clawed hands resting on the cold marble table, as he commenced, "He became a totally different man over-night. Alcohol, pleasurable company. Turning the manor's banquet hall into a..." He stopped and shook his head slowly.

The other looked up, indignation shining in his violet eyes and said, "Brothel? Dungeon of mass orgies?"

Tromell nodded only once. By this time nobody was eating anymore. Food and drink was left cold and lonely upon the table. There were fewer other people in the dining hall then, and therefore the area was also less noisy.

"Oh, we have gone off point now. All that time we never knew what became of Master Seymour and his dear mother. She was rather sweet was she not?"

"Hmm. Quite." The other nodded agreeably. "What was her name? I have scarce forgotten it, Jyscal railed at us to never mention it... Ah yes! Amina. Her name was Lady Amina. Such a lovely name, and yet Master Jyscal..."

There was a passing of silence, whereby one of them spoke again.

"So our lives continued for ten years without them. Then very suddenly, as if possessed, Lord Jyscal ordered us, and a dozen scouts to bring them back! We went by yacht to Baaj Island. Since the island is not very large, we found him a day later. Eating from the corpse of a pyre fly-infested behemoth."

"The feeling was so unreal. Before us, it was unmistakably Master Seymour with his azure hair. But as a young man. He ignored our presence, and continued eating. He appeared to be crying, and we had to bodily carry him away from that massive corpse, struggling in our grasps. What a behemoth was doing on Baaj we never figured out."

"On the yacht, with extreme difficulty we removed his worn and rugged clothing. He did not speak a word, although he appeared to recognise some of us. Back at the manor in Guadosalam we had him cleaned up and scrubbed. Because of his silence, we were convinced that he had lost his sanity from living on that island alone for so long. Suddenly he spoke in chocobo Guado, or very basic Guado. What he said would roughly be equivalent to this in the language of men; "Yay! I is clean, and I'm smell nice!" Flabbergasted we stood there flummoxed and dumbstruck, we knew for sure he had lost it. And then you know what Lady Yuna?"

"... what?" She asked curiously.

"After a few moments of revelling in our gaping stares, he broke the silence by saying, in proper Guado's old tongue that it was all a prank, that it was wonderful to see us again, and that he had missed us."

Everyone at the table laughed, especially Yuna with her hand over her mouth. She was surprised, so he was not always so calm and controlled! The Guado with the purple hair and uniform was laughing heartily at the fond memory as Tromell went on.

"To our great relief, he had not lost his mind, nor his uncommon sense of humour. Although he does not appear to be the sort, he had been as a child comical, only when he and his mother was in a good mood of course. Past his calm exterior, he is actually deeply emotional and temperamental."

Catching his breath from laughing so hard, the other Guado said turning serious again, "But after that he still appeared melancholy. Almost as if he did not like the idea of coming back."

"If I may Tromell," queried Yuna, "what became of Lady Amina?"

He turned to her and elaborated, eyes cast downwards. "We never found her. Master Seymour refused to say anything. Only a few months later did he break down and confide in what happened." Tromell's face seemed to become more wrinkled as he sighed deeply. "His mother died, or rather, chose to die. That is all we know, he did not say why, or how."

Once more the atmosphere tensed. Yuna shook her head slowly in dismay and genuine pity. In a hushed tone she asked, "How old was he?" She could feel what she had felt, when her own mother died because of Sin.

"He was nine when she died. He relented in telling us when, but refused to tell us how. We strongly believe it has something to do with that aeon of his, which he named after Lady Amina but pronounced and spelt her name backwards."

"Forgive me, I cannot continue anymore." Said Tromell frowning, as he got up and bowed to Yuna before leaving. "Pescal, don't be rude and introduce yourself to Lady Yuna, I believe that she did not learn your name."

As the green-haired one left, Pescal bowed his head at once and apologised. "Needless to say, I am Seymour's house medic. Pescal Guado. Sorry, I clean forgot to tell you my name earlier."

"It's okay." Yuna replied.

"How will be spending the rest of your day Lady Yuna?" He asked, as they got up from the table, and leisurely headed out of the dining halls.

"Pescal, has Seymour told you anything else, plans of any kind perhaps?"

"You mean pertaining to what the late Lord Jyscal mentioned on the sphere? No, I haven't the foggiest. Although I doubt this will be of any help, the beads he wears on his neck were taken from his mother's clothing after she died. I... he does not like to be without them, and does not like strangers to handle them." Pescal looked about cautiously and said, a week after he returned from Baaj, when he was still getting used to his new surroundings, he brawled with someone who touched them without his permission."

"Oh." Said Yuna, wondering what would have happened, if he were awake when she was cleaning his blood off his multi-coloured beads. It surely would not have been nice in the slightest bit.

Yuna then told him that she would not be doing anything particularly. Perhaps she would go and pray at the cloister of trials, and acquire the aeon of Bevelle. Pescal then bowed regally, and left her to check on the still sleeping Maester Seymour.

Outside, of all things to think about, she thought about Seymour. Alone on a deserted island for ten years, with no one to talk to, or laugh with, how did he survive as a child with all those fiends? She thought, at least he was not alone anymore. It must have been like a prison sentence! She remembered what it was like when she was a child, it was frightening to be completely alone at any time. Especially in the night. If it were her there alone for so long, she thought she would have surely gone mad with loneliness.

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Bevelle would have been beautiful, if it was not for the machina she found in the temple. Not that she had never come into contact with one, as a child she ever recalled vaguely her mother using a machina weapon against fiends before. But, a machina in a temple? She began to wonder more about what Tidus asked her, "Is machina such a bad thing?"

Still walking along the air bridges of Bevelle, with the wind blowing against her she remembered what poor Seymour had asked before he fell unconscious. "Have you seen the machina in Bevelle?" She thought again when she realised that she had disobeyed him. He wanted to be present when she went outside.

Hours earlier, the moment she received the aeon, Bahamut the dragon king she ran outside. Out of the hallowed temple and into the orderly streets. Machina, and there were _Al Bhed _ teaching monks how to use them.

It was in the late afternoon. Looking up into the clouds in the sky, she watched as Evrae did somersaults lazily high up in the air. She did not know what to think of the teachings of which she had learnt all the while, she had so many questions to ask Maester Seymour. Perhaps he was awake now...

She turned, and walked in a fast pace as the refreshing wind blew on her and her clothing.

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Slowly she put her hand on the cold brass knobs of the heavy double doors of his room, and pushed. The doors creaked as she opened them, peeping through the gap she saw that he was still sound asleep. She went in, and just as slowly and silently, she closed the doors behind her.

Yuna sat on the edge of his bed, next to him. He had not moved at all since she left him early this morning. He was resting on his front, but now his bandages were stained a dark colour. It was so quiet in his chamber, that she could hear his now steady breathing, very unlike his laboured and ragged breathing before.

Seymour's fever had gone away, he was no longer flushed and sweating... but the expression on his face was different. Not like the usual emotionless expression he always showed, but one of sorrow and bitterness. When Yuna was little, she remembered the old wives' tales that an old lady used to tell the children at Besaid. That, never believe the face that a person wears in the day, rather the face worn at night and in sleep is the true face of the individual. Because while one is sleeping, one is incapable of lying or putting on false acts.

It was not meant for him to hear, but she whispered out loud her thoughts nagging on her inquiring mind. "Why did you want me to stop my pilgrimage... it conflicts with your decision to never harm... Spira, or anyone again..?"

Looking at his troubled face, and thinking about what he had been through, it was quite heart breaking. Yuna presently had neutral feelings toward him. Gone was the indifference, it was replaced by curiosity, but still... there was no doubt that she was scared of him. First being a killer, and then there was his substantial skill of fighting and magic that she witnessed at Operation Mi'ihen. He had enough strength to push away the monstrous Sin spawn Gui, without breaking a sweat it slid off more than a dozen feet in the dust.

So, he had a very good reason to hate his father. But still! Enough to commit murder? He probably had no morals, no fear of the consequences. She had the idea, that only evil and dangerous, and or insane people were capable of killing another. So, she thought she should not let her guard down to nothing. He could easily kill her by putting his large hands around her neck. She still did not know what to think of the fact that she was engaged to a killer.

She stayed there a while longer, watching him sleep as his bandaged back rose and fell as he breathed. Laying there on the soft colourful silk duvets and sheets of his bed, defenceless and vulnerable, ironically very unlike a killer before leaving him in peace.

Yuna spent the remainder of the day touring the vast city of Bevelle alone, watching the monks and acolytes go about their daily affairs, vendors selling their wares at town, people sitting at cafe's chatting, little children running around playing blitzball on the clean streets until the sun set, and thinking about how much more of the true face of Yevon that she had yet to see.

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**End Of Chapter Three**


	4. Greenhouse with Sinspawn

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

CHAPTER FOUR

A Final Fantasy X Fan-fic

"My lord. You are finally awake."

Gingerly like a moomba balanced on a knife-edge Seymour got up. In the light he blinked the blurriness out of his eyes. Yuna was not in his chamber. Instead was a Guado medic, with deep purple hair, holding medicine and a silver jug of water. Let down by her absence, wordlessly he limped to his mirror. He grimaced at the sight, and spoke to the medic reflected in the mirror behind him. "Pescal. How long have I been out?"

Respectfully the medic bowed and replied, "For two days and two nights my lord. The time is now eight in the morning. Your punishment will be officially over in another day and night."

He stared at himself, and suddenly clutched his neck.

"Your beads are on your dressing table. Lady Yuna cleaned them for you."

Seymour breathed a deep sigh of relief, and regained his composure. "My thanks Pescal." He could still feel the pain, but it was dull and much more bearable, nowhere near as torturous as before. Inwardly, he shuddered at the memory.

In the warm light coming in from the window, the medic bowed again and inquired, "Is there anything that your grace would like to request?"

"No. You are dismissed." Replied Lord Seymour, still in front of his mirror. Pausing there, as he remembered why he needed to have his chest tattooed. But it was due to much more long-term damage, as compared to the very intense, but short-term damage he experienced last night. He shook his head then thought to himself, "I shall have to get my back tattooed too." As he carefully put on his beads, and with difficulty, his new robe that was folded and placed on his wooded dressing table.

Before he left the fine interior of his chamber, he studied his appearance in his full-body mirror. His hair just grew that way, as if he had fiend's horns. He disliked it especially as a child because he felt that it made him look very silly, but began to ignore it as he matured. When he thought about Yuna, he suddenly became more concerned of his appearance, and tied back his stiff hair in a neat single tail with a thick maroon silk cord. "Hmm. Much better." He thought to himself.

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He had searched the library, dining hall, and of course her room. Where was she? The moment the young Maester began to worry where could she be, he found her in one of the many lush gardens of the Highbridge. There she was, amongst the flowers and shade of the small green trees. Dappled light fell on her kneeling form in thought or meditation, with a wonderful air of peace and serenity that seemed to emanate from her. She looked so sweet, and the sight of her... just the sight of her from a distance, brought warm and comforting feelings to him.

He strolled to her, the leaves rustling in the wind as he did. When he was closer to her, his part-Guado senses enriched him of her present being. He smelt that she was a little fearful, he hoped that it was because of the great height of Highbridge Bevelle in the sky, or the heathen machina, not him, and ... if he was not mistaken... he smelt guilt? She surprised him by suddenly looking up.

"Your grace."

His eyes, half-lidded from the pain caused by his movement to kneel next to her cut into his back. "Please, cease with the formalities Lady Yuna."

"As you wish Lord Seymour."

"Lady Yuna...?"

"Lord Seymour." Yuna insisted.

"L-" With a small smile Seymour understood her sudden, and yet pleasantly surprising playful tactic. "Yuna."

Then an awkward silence came. He noticed that she regarded him differently from before, not talking she looked at him long and hard, as if she was confused or was finding words to say. At that funny moment, words eluded Seymour too. There was an old saying in Spira, that if suddenly words escaped and left people silent for a moment in company, it was because a benevolent fayth had passed by.

Still feeling the dull pain, Seymour dearly wanted to say something to her.. He looked into her blue and green eyes softly and said, "Are you well this morning?"

She glanced away and replied, "Yes." Thinking of what to say, she had her lips parted with a distracted gaze and her eyebrows were furrowed.

"What is it?" He asked.

She looked up and reached for his face with the tips of her fingers, "Your fever was so bad, the veins on your face were throbbing so much that I thought they were going to burst."

He jumped at her touch, startled as she gasped and snatched her hand away.

"I'm sorry! Did I hurt you?"

"It's all right." Seymour reassured her. He could feel the veins of his forehead and face burning. A Gaudo's blush, not reddening of the cheeks, but intensifying of facial vein colour. For him, a darker shade of blue.

The Maester felt exposed and embarrassed. He felt worse when a nearby passing Guado mother reacted, by covering her child's eyes, hastily steering her child away, and giving Seymour a look of much disgust.

Yuna was at first confused, but realised that she must have touched what was considered private for a Guado, and that a Guado's blush meant something much more sensual as compared to a human's. At the dawning or realisation on how inappropriate and uncomfortable the situation was, she herself began to blush.

Seeing stars in his vision, Seymour shook his head and changed the subject. "Let us pretend that _that _never occurred."

Still with her cheeks red Yuna bowed her head down, and apologised.

He leaned nearer to her and said, "It is quite all right my lady, we are engaged." Immediately he regret saying that, it appeared to put her into a sadder mood.

She sighed and asked, looking at him. "Does it still hurt?"

"It does, but it is naught but simple physical pain. There are much worse things around, don't you agree? Come," he said with his half-closed hand, he gently nudged her forearm with his knuckles, "walk with me?"

They got up. Since there was still a wall of ice between them, Seymour decided to at least let her get used to being near him. Although her shyness was endearing, he wanted her to be more comfortable and trusting. Why did she have to find that sphere, if it were possible he would happily kill Jyscal again for giving it to her. He decided not to think about his stupid dead father anymore, he would not allow him to ruin his day.

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Ignoring his duties as Maester, (he knew very well that he should not, but did it anyway) Seymour spent the entire morning with Yuna, bringing her to breakfast and conversing with her. After breakfast he took her for a walk, as he needed to walk the stiffness out of his body. He asked, "Yuna, what would make you feel better?"

"Flowers and blossoms." She replied, walking with him.

"Have you been to the green house of Highbridge?"

"There's a green house?" Asked Yuna, her expression brightening.

"Of course. Come." He suggested, "may I hold your hand?" Then at the scent of her surprise, he dipped his gaze and said to her, "I understand." Without asserting himself, he led her to the green house.

It was a gigantic structure made of glass, and in some places of water like a blitzball sphere pool. As the clear water rippled above with light shining through, changing patterns fell onto them and the plants. Seymour stood with her at the entrance, emotionless and stoic as per normal, while Yuna admired the place, looking up in awe and wonder.

Running to the plants and flora, she called to Seymour who followed her, "It's beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here."

At that distance he felt her delight. He could tell that she missed her guardians. "My pleasure Yuna." He breathed in the air deeply, the healthy plants smelt nicer, he felt a little more refreshed. He began, "You miss them, do you not?"

Holding a glossy green leaf in her hand, without plucking it out she turned around to reply. "Yes, I do. I think they will come to see me during the wedding."

Treading past a patch of tonberry orchids, he ventured, "Do you miss them very much?"

"Of course I do, they are my friends and surrogate family."

Seymour felt a need to say exactly what was on his mind, even if it was inappropriate socially. "I'm jealous."

From behind the green, yellow and brown-striped tonberry orchids he peered at her with his blue eyes. She looked as though she was taken off guard, and he apologised. "I am sorry. Does my jealousy disturb you?"

"Yes!" Yuna said, with her expression of astonishment still holding the spade-shaped leaf.

Stepping closer to her, he laughed. "I should not say everything that is on my mind. I have a horrid habit of doing it. So, no sense in staying in one spot of the green house. Walk where ever you wish, we won't get lost. I know this place well."

They walked deeper in, the plants there were amazing. In sizes that very seldom occurred in nature, all perfect in form protected from insects and fungi. The sight of so many different and rare species together in one area was breath-taking.

Yuna asked as they moved slowly through the narrow trail, passing through lush and healthy green plants, "Who cares for them?"

"The monks, and Maester Mika occasionally. They are watered by the sphere pool above, in the nights." Seymour answered, regrettably feeling the dull pain in his back. He should not be here, standing. He should be doing physically undemanding tasks such as sitting in his office. With Yuna so enthusiastic and interested in the flowers he began to lag behind. He could just see her in the cool rippling light, skipping among a halberd bush.

She turned around and stood on tip-toe, and called to him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Seymour lied. "Slow down Yuna!" He followed and came to her side, at a large pond with white moon lilies.

Yuna looked up at his face, "You don't look so good..." She gasped, "I forgot! Your injuries, you should be resting!"

"I would much rather be here with you than sitting on my arse in the office. I doubt Maester Mika would let me sleep in today, at my quarters." He smiled, sweating abit from the pain that was slightly more than this morning.

In surprise she pointed at him in a accusatory manner, and exclaimed "You cut work!"

He gave her only a smile of affirmation. "What, are you going to report me?"

Her smile and playfulness faded, as she cut in. "Please Seymour, do not make me feel worse about your trial in the dungeon."

Walking at the edge of the dark blue pond, with water like glass he told her, " Yuna. Don't, I. I think I deserved it. Although frankly I do not regret my actions at all. Shall we talk about something else then?"

And so they did. The Maester led her right to the centre of the greenhouse, where there were rocks of different heights and sizes all arranged in a huge spiral, covered on top with furry moss and creeping plants. Yuna made him sit and rest, while she stayed within his sight, running her hands on the tall grey stone slabs standing off the grass. The blinding silver rays of light shining through the glass, and undulating water showed that the time was wearing later into the afternoon.

Seymour sighed, sitting on the cold stone watching her frolic and explore the area, feeling the leaves, the texture of the blue moss... She seemed to have such a zest for life, with admirable spirit. All of which he lacked. No one, or anything in his life could hold his attention like her. The feeling of comfort and peace of mind that she gave him, there was no substitute on Spira.

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It was in the afternoon, when they were walking in silence together at the bridges over the skies, looking at the scenery and colourful buildings and homes of Bevelle, listening to the choir monks singing songs of praise to Yu Yevon, when out of nowhere a panicked warrior monk ran to them yelling as if deranged, "Sin spawn! Sin spawn at the abbey!"

Both Seymour and Yuna forgot about their discomfort and shyness, and with determination left, each with their respective weapons with the stressed warrior monk.

On armoured chocobos, they rode to the infected area of Bevelle. There were people running, screaming in terror. Seymour smelt strongly in his nostrils fear, dread and even hate. Yuna could smell fire and smoke from the flame throwers of frantic warrior monks.

Seymour was first to jump off from his mount, while Yuna rode towards the injured at the back. She got off and started what she did best, white magic.

A shell of Sin spawn, seemingly having fallen out from the heavens flailed viciously in a crater, writhing tentacles and all, emitting a foul black vapour as it reached mindlessly for those beating it back.

Kelk Ronso was already there, with his native personal body guards, all in overdrive with Ronso rage. The primitive but powerful fiend's style of fighting. Their blue magic was keeping the horrible creature at bay. Here and there was Aqua Breath and Fire Breath. Stone Breath and Bad Breath appeared to have no effect on it.

Naske thundered to Yuna with an unconscious young Ronso in his arms for help, who had heroically used the fiend skill Self-Destruct to obliterate one of the Sin spawn's uncouth tentacles.

Every now and again, the creature would vomit smaller versions of its repulsive self. These were taken care of easily with a fire spell, or a thrust from a Ronso's sharp spear. But the source remained. Warrior monks running around with blazing machina weapons, machina robots stomping on spawn that threatened the safety of the citizens. The whole place was a very accurate image of confusion and chaos.

From the rear old and white Maester Mika called out, "Steady, steady! We need only endure this until the wyvern Evrae comes to our aid!"

Seymour gestured elegantly as he did his black magic, burning spawn that lunged too close. He looked about amidst the madness, all the Maesters were here, except for Kinoc. Damn that irresponsible bastard! Turning around, he gestured again, electrocuting another Sin spawn that hissed in pain, as it fell a few feet away from him.

Yuna pliantly cast protect and shell again and again, carefully measuring each step, as she manoeuvred among the lines of defence. She knew she had to concentrate and stand strong, even with no Lulu or Sir Auron to tell her to focus on the fight. Those who were managing the heat of battle shot her grateful looks, while others in the thick of it expressed their gratitude by fighting harder.

Before much time had elapsed, Maester Seymour threw himself past the front line of Sin spawn and warriors, and brought himself into overdrive. Light so bright, that the surroundings darkened in response from his Requiem. The resonance of it like the wind of Mt. Gagazet, and the thunder of the Plains. Still it was not enough, although the copies of the monster were maimed and rid of, the one in the crater remained.

Then in the nick of time, the great wyvern Evrae appeared angry and in high dudgeon. Screaming sharply, and with a sweep of its tail, the Sin spawn was converted to pyre flies at phenomenal speed. They watched as the wyvern did its job effectively, younger warriors looked up in awe of its power, while older veterans sighed in relief as their morale was boosted.

And then just like that, the tumult ended. For a moment, everybody stood still catching their breaths, and shaking off what had just happened.

Seymour dropped his stave with a loud metallic clang, and sank to the ground, kneeling in pain. He should not have used his overdrive, by doing so the exertion split his wounds right open again. Breathing shallow breaths, he thought now... he would have rather done that five times over without regret, than summon his aeon.

He looked around for Yuna, twisting his neck. Still in the same spot, he saw her a distance over twirling her staff and doing her white magic. He calmed down, and was pleased to see her unhurt healing the injured. Then he noticed the smell of the departed in the breeze, she would most likely dance to send them. A pity that he could not do a paired dance with her, a sending waltz. Such pain forbade his participation.

"My Lord. If I may?" Asked Pescal, as he knelt next to Seymour.

"Thank you." Humbly Seymour accepted the medic's help, leant against him and put his arm over his shoulders, as he heaved him up.

"My Lord, when the time of your sentence expires, would you like me to leave you an elixir in your chamber?"

"No."

"If you would permit me to ask..."

"Permission granted, go on."

As they made their way to the nearest building that was not on fire or damaged, Pescal continued, "Would your fiancee be healing you then?"

Seymour sighed and chuckled jovially in response. "I did not know that you were such a romantic Pescal. Perchance you could give me some advice?"

Helping his injured master, the medic smiled and shook his head. "I am in no position, or will ever be in a position to give anyone such advice, let alone you my Lord."

Both laughed.

Seymour admitted, "I should've went to my office the moment I arose, but I procrastinated. The amount of paper work I have now must be staggering."

"No need to worry my Lord, you are in luck. Lately there has been very little trouble at the temples. No new laws need to be passed. The priests are managing well."

Amidst the aftermath, on chocobo-back came the latecomer Kinoc. Inconsiderately he stopped right in front, and in Pescal's and Seymour's path, spraying dirt onto their clothing as his chocobo skidded to an abrupt halt. Pescal had no choice but to stop and wait for Seymour's orders. Seymour looked up at Kinoc and said coldly, "You're in the way."

Kinoc asked, "Have I missed all the action? You look like a nice piece of work Seymour!"

Seymour turned his face to Pescal, and whispered to carry on walking, as if Kinoc and his plump chocobo was not there. When they turned and walked only but a few steps, Kinoc steered his chocobo into their path once more.

Keeping his emotions and thoughts to himself, Seymour looked up annoyed and slightly exasperated. "What the farplane are you up to Kinoc?"

Kinoc did not answer. So again, Pescal tried to turn and lead his master away, when yet again, the chocobo stepped in front and blocked the way. It was as if Kinoc had trained his chocobo to deny passage to injured people, because it was suspiciously quick with its foot work. Sensing Seymour's impatience, Pescal tried another direction but it did not work.

"Did you send your chocobo for dance lessons?" Remarked Seymour drily, glaring up at Kinoc.

"You can't even keep up with a chocobo, what about the lady summoner that you're head over heels for? Ha! You're foolish and weak Seymour, to turn yourself in and go through divine punishment for that lady summoner who is not even a woman yet!" Kinoc taunted, although it was not hot, he was sweating because of his thick priest's robes.

Still leaning on his medic with his arm over him, Seymour challenged in an even tone, keeping his building anger in check. "Would you like a black mage's dance with me then?"

Before Maester Kinoc could reply, a familiar old man's unsteady voice came from behind. "Do I sense dissension in the ranks?"

"No sir!" Replied as Kinoc immediately got off his ride, and bowed. "I was just asking Maester Seymour about his injuries."

High Maester of Yevon Mika hobbled nearer with his body guards and said, "You should take a leaf out of his book Kinoc. He is not fearful of shame or punishment. Your records may not be as stained as his, but they are not spotless either. There is enough hypocrisy in the court of Yevon as it is." He turned to Seymour, who bent as low as he could in respect to Mika. "You are responsible Seymour, that I know. Do not disappoint me."

Seymour said nothing, and kept his head bowed as Mika walked away with his guards who followed suit.

"Weakling!" Hissed Kinoc to Seymour as he dumped himself onto his chocobo, and rode off.

The medic sighed loudly and pulled Seymour up into a more comfortable position, for he had slipped slightly when he bowed to Maester Mika. "Permission to speak freely my lord?"

"Yes."

"I don't like Lord Kinoc. As time has gone by he has gotten too big for his boots. Why does he dislike you so?"

"I don't know Pescal." Replied Seymour, as they made their way, careful not to step on anything sharp. As they came closer to the building, Seymour requested, "Pescal. I wish to be out in the open, I need air." He gritted his teeth as Pescal carefully set him down on an out-door bench. It was already in the early evening.

"Are you sure my Lord?"

As he watched Yuna dancing far off away, pyre flies swirling about her as she danced among the fallen sorrowfully and yet beautifully, he replied softly. "Yes."

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As she danced into the night, sending the numerous departed Yuna had her mind on other things. But her questions would have to be put on hold, Seymour was hurt again and she had better let him rest and recuperate. Even if she could finish, by then it would be too late in the night for a visit to his chambers. For now she continued doggedly, exhausted.

These pyre flies did not allow her to send them easily. The souls of young men and a few young women, who had barely lived life to the fullest yet. For them life ended suddenly, and unfairly. Obviously they were reluctant to leave. If she allowed them to stay, the chances of them morphing into fiends was very high indeed.

Again, killed by Sin spawn from Sin. The cause of Spira's strife and misery. She wondered as she danced, with friends and family of the victims standing at the sidelines with their heads bowed in prayer, some doing the sign of Yevon, where did Sin come from?

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**End Of Chapter Four**


	5. The White Ochu

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX/ SQUARESOFT.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

CHAPTER FIVE

A Final Fantasy Fan-fic

At his office table, Seymour sighed, bored out of his mind. It was already early evening, he had spent the entire day there in his office, replying letters, signing them, and approving slight alterations to existing laws. He pushed away his pen and bottle of green ink and stretched as much as his injuries would allow. Finally, all paper work for the time being finished.

Always, they would ask the most ridiculous and stupid questions. It was unnerving and irritating, like an itch that was out of reach. Sending him lengthy letters that always beat about the bush and never got to the point, on minute and often meaningless details that had very obvious or logical answers. Didn't these priests and monks have any common sense? Obviously no, although they were supposedly old and wise, they still followed the teachings of Yu Yevon for decades, without ever thinking if or not the teachings made some sense. Yu Yevon, - that maniac.

Yes, it was boring and humdrum. Well, at least he did not have jury duty, or had to choose punishment for occasional offenders of the law. He did not find such duties very pleasant. He watched, as father sun began to set. The clouds were pink and orange, with shining yellow lining. The buildings of Bevelle looked like burning coals in the last rays of the retiring sun. Punishment ended last night, but he still had not healed himself because he was too tired.

He would have to get his back tattooed. It would surely scar, it would not have if he had his wounds healed instantly that bloody night.

Was what he was doing right? He was being selfish. He had given up saving Spira for marriage, for love. In a few day's time, his dear Yuna would be his. But all those people... him changing his beliefs to suit hers... He pushed the guilty thought out of his mind. He got up lethargically, and went to find Yuna. There was no going back now, what was done, was done. In return for her, he would... he _must_ keep his end of the bargain.

"Just don't dwell on such thoughts." He thought to himself, suddenly noticing that he was breathing faster than normal, that he had his fists clenched, and that he was shaking slightly. "I shall be fine."

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"Pescal." Called Seymour, as the attentive guard outside in the open turned around. "How has she been today?"

"Rather well actually, she has a fine singing voice." He bowed and pointed through red sandstone pillars, toward the many artistically sculpted fountains spraying water. "Can you see her Sir? She's just there."

It was already dark, but the night lamps had not come on yet. He could not see or hear her, just the water dropping onto stone,and the grey and blue shapes of the sculptures of the fountains in the descending gloom. He wandered out, half-blind, using his sense of smell to try and find her, but she was not in range.

"Seymour."

"Yuna, where are you?" He squinted. In front, he made out a moving shape, and with a surge of pleasure, recognised it as her. "My punishment is over, will you -?

"I will. I was hoping to heal you last night, but I had to send all the departed. I could not have done it without Maester Mika's help. He is strong for someone his age." She put her hand onto his shoulder and concentrated.

There was a white flash, and all the infernal pain from his hands, wrists, ankles, back and throat was gone. Watching her eyes, he took her hand from his shoulder and thanked her. Offering Yuna his arm, he asked as she took it, "What do you say to a real dinner? I'm through with the food from the dining halls of the temple."

"If it pleases you."

His heart jumped as he felt her arm link with his, and he led the way.

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Although it was Yuna's first time at that restaurant, she immediately liked it. It was a quiet and intimate place, not too posh, with few people, lit by quaint little brass lamps here and there. Seymour pulled out a chair for Yuna to sit at the table, and said, "This is my favourite place to eat at in Bevelle. Where I can sit and eat slowly, and needn't worry about running into unwanted company." He smirked, sitting down next to her.

As the menus were placed before them, Yuna asked him while admiring the atmosphere, dark sienna drapery and numerous silk screens around. "What's the name of this place?"

Flipping through the well-worn menu Seymour looked up and replied, "The White Ochu."

If Seymour meant monks and priests as unwanted company, she could see why. Among the other diners that she could make out through the screens, were crusaders clad in armour, and in a corner far away, were a group of Al Bhed swirling wine in their glasses. Their faces red with contentment, as they laughed softly, minding the peace of the other guests.

"I think I'll have what's recommended. Mushroom soup with Mandragora pastry on top." Decided Yuna. "What will you be having?"

"Behemoth steak." Seymour replied, waving for the waiter's attention.

A portly waiter in black came and beamed. "Maester Seymour! Wonderful to serve you again. And who is your friend here that I have the pleasure of meeting?"

"The High Summoner Braska's daughter."

"I'm Yuna." She smiled and shook his hand.

The waiter as he did, shook his head in admiration. "Your orders?"

Seymour spoke, "Mushroom soup with mandragora pastry, and behemoth steak."

As the enthusiastic waiter left, Yuna asked, leaning closer to him, "How does stopping my pilgrimage conflict with your promise to never harm Spira? Don't you feel that a calm is what everybody in Spira wants?"

He sighed, he could not forget about his decision after-all. "By letting you go, I would be sending you to your grave..."

"But by dying I may be saving thousands of people." Insisted Yuna gently.

"I hardly see human sacrifice as saving people. Sin returns, every time." Said Seymour, running his fingers through his thick blue hair, and tossing his head.

"But the Calm, people will be able to sleep without fear, no dying for a few years...-"

"You do not know that, what if these same people are destined to die by Sin? These same people will be hunted down by Sin when it returns after the calm. You do not save anyone by dying. You are only delaying the inevitable, sacrificing yourself to the monster that will come back."

As Yuna listened and took in all the logic, he continued. "Every person is a part of Spira. By letting you go to your death, would I not be harming Spira?"

Yuna understood, nodding she helped him complete his message, "Thereby conflicting with your promise to me."

"But I do so admire your determination Yuna. Going out all the way to save Spira. Much like myself."

At that instant Yuna was confused. How would killing Spira save it? She asked, "Seymour, you seem like a good person... why would you..-"

He responded to her confusion, by putting his hand over hers, completely covering it on the table top. "I will tell you, but not persuade you to think like me, because I respect you. My opinions are drastically different from the norm. But now, it is not in my interest to ruin the mood this evening," he smiled.

She blinked with a thoughtful expression on her face, looking at his heavy hand on hers, and pulled her hand from under his. But she did not take her hand away, instead she turned over his hand to look at his palm.

"Do my claws disturb you? I notice that you are often staring at my hands." He looked at her, as she continued holding his palm open.

"No." She glanced at him, "Just that, you have beautiful hands Seymour."

Her first ever compliment to him. He actually began to be a little nervous, and gave it away by biting his lip and glancing away for a slight moment. He changed the subject, unused to the attention. "Enough about me. What about you? Back before you began your pilgrimage, how did you spend your time?"

"Studying the physics and properties of pyre flies, and how to manipulate them. After school, it would be watching Wakka and Chappu with the Aurochs play blitzball at the beach. Going swimming... life was very carefree back then." Yuna remembering, with a faraway look in her eyes. She laughed and said, "Once I ever got Kimahri to play blitzball with us."

"Kimahri is that quiet Ronso with the halberd right? How did you?"

"I bounced the blitzball off his broken horn. Wakka, Chappu and Lulu nearly threw a fit. I thought for a moment that he would be mad, but he roared in mock anger and dived into the water with us!" She continued animatedly as he listened, "Kimahri is like a father to me, although he doesn't talk much."

"Who is Chappu?"

Smiling a sad smile expressing loss, Yuna told him. "Wakka's brother. He died as a crusader, died by Sin."

"Again Sin." He muttered, frowning.

"Seymour?"

"Yes?"

"What do you usually do everyday?"

He raised his eyebrows ever so slightly, and avoided her gaze "I doubt that you will be interested in the monotonous life of a Maester." He caught her scent, as she mischievously narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. He smelt uncertainty and curiosity. Especially curiosity. Seymour felt odd talking about himself, but since she wanted to know... "Doing work in the office, and as high priest of Macalania temple I teach students morals and social decency. Pyre fly properties, sending dances. Black magic, no white because I am utterly hopeless at it."

When Yuna gave him a look of disbelief, he insisted earnestly although his face remained straight, "The rest like the teachings of Yevon are taught to my students by the lower priests and priestesses." He added as an after thought, "Yes. Thank goodness for that. I need not teach them about Yevon."

At the mention of Yevon, Yuna perked and recalled. "Oh yes, I forgot that I wanted to ask you. Why are there so many machina in Bevelle? Aren't they forbidden, wouldn't their presence bring about Sin?"

The half-Guado looked at her intently and told her, "It is all a lie Yuna. You would notice that it is not the machina that Sin attacks after all, it is the people, or the people _using_ the machina to harm Sin. Notice that people carrying sphere cameras are unaffected." He rubbed his forehead and sighed, "Alas, this subject too will ruin the light-hearted mood of the evening."

"It will?" Asked Yuna, her eyes shining brightly, reflecting the light from the brass lamps.

"It is related to my opinion, that death is Spira's only hope." He added in a firm tone, when he saw her expression darken, "Do not fret Yuna. I keep my promises, always, I will never kill anyone again." He noticed that she was still holding his hand on the table top. He wondered if he squeezed her hand, would she allow him to do so, without feeling strange or awkward. But he did not get the chance. By pausing in conversation, she noticed, and took her hand away from his and returned them to her lap in typical feminine fashion. He could tell that she was disturbed of his opinions, he cursed himself inside, thinking she likely thought of him as insane.

Suddenly, Yuna gasped and jumped in her seat. Seymour picked up an orange furred purring moomba, from under the table cloth and said, "This is one of The White Ochu's moombas. I think this one's named Paika."

Hanging in Seymour's grasp with its paws and tufted tail dangling, it pricked its ears with a wide-eyed innocent stare. It had emerald green eyes, short dense fluffy vermillion orange fur, and it was coloured white and black in some areas. It was very cute.

Yuna lowered herself in her seat, so that her face was level with the animal's and exclaimed, "You scared me there you know?"

As it let out a soft "mew," a waiter came with a trolley and apologised. "I'll take the rascal with me now, here are your orders. Enjoy." The waiter heaved the moomba onto his shoulder which protested by struggling and clawing at the waiter.

To Yuna, her order already appeared abit large, but Seymour's was huge! Nonchalantly he picked up his fork and knife and cut her a piece. ("We will be feeding each other. What were you thinking?")

A few curious people whispered and watched the attractive couple pass their food to each other. The man a Guado, confident and charming. The young lady, sweet and gentle, humbly listening to her suitor. Admitting to her suitor how unused she was to this flattering care and attention. The man then chided her paternally, smiling as he did so, and intimated to her that she should get used to it. It was a sight to behold for the romantic at heart, the manner of the couple dining in the glow of the romantic orange light was sigh-provoking.

Suddenly, the half-Guado paused with his fork in his steak, and his knife in the other. "Yuna. We have not bought our wedding clothing yet."

"And the wedding is the day after tomorrow!" Realised Yuna, aghast.

"Yes." Seymour said, regretting that the moment could not last much longer.

"What is the custom here in Bevelle?"

"The week passed by so quickly, I just remembered. Everything is planned for you, but not the clothing. Not to worry, the shops never close in Bevelle." He looked up and sighed, "Tromell will lecture me like a child if he finds out about my carelessness."

When they were finished with dinner, they left The White Ochu quickly after Seymour paid the bill, with the portly waiter waving good-bye to them at the entrance.

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There were too many shops. There were just, _too_ many shops. In the crowded shopping street with the light of street lamps and shop windows glowing yellow, Seymour was thankful that they did not get recognised and fussed over by ordinary citizens. The noisy crowd was too distracted with their own shopping provided them with ideal cover, and also because it was in the night. He looked down and faced Yuna who was holding him by the arm. "Can you see above the crowd, is there anything that you might prefer or like?" She looked as though she was enjoying herself at the sights and sounds.

"Let's go to the last shop at the bend!" She looked up at him, the lights reflecting in her eyes.

He nodded once as she led the way, pushing and jostling through the place. It was not easy to get there through the stumbling human traffic. The shop door tinkled with the sound of bells as they entered. She chose the dress that was on display at the bright shop window. A white bare-back, with a dress that would trail on the floor with white feathers.

Inside, Seymour thought aloud. "I bet if one fainted, his or her body would still remain in a vertical position, and get carried by the crowd!" Yuna laughed as he sat, to watch the seamstress take Yuna's measurements. With a fake dead serious expression, he insisted with his joke, making even the seamstress laugh, "Is it not true? I do not think it is humanely possible to fall flat in there!"

With her arm stretched from her side, she asked, "What about you Seymour, have you chosen your groom's outfit yet?"

He sighed, "Anything will do my lady." At her expression he said, "I have never liked attention from women, Guado or human. It is why I can't care less about my appearance, and it is why I favour clothing that makes me look fat, possibly gay." He added to the amused Yuna, flirting with her, "I only desire attention from you."

Yuna laughed again. "Will you let me pick one for you?"

With obvious purpose he repeated what she said to him earlier in the evening. "If it pleases you."

To his surprise, he smelt not bewilderment, but a playful sort of resentment and a hint of harmless vindiction, as she smiled sweetly back at him as an answer to his reply.

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It was the next day, in the late morning. Seymour sat in his private chamber, before his wooden dressing table, and on it was his groom's outfit. It was windy, and it blew in from his balcony. He had opened the doors to it, to allow more light into his private chamber, and some air to refresh his mind.

"If it pleases you." He said to himself sarcastically. Not that what she chose for him was very distasteful, or ugly, it was very stylish. By that he was unsure if he could carry it off. The night before, at the bridal shop she told the seller to wrap it up as a surprise. In harmless jest, she told him not to look at it until tomorrow (which was today).

He smiled, not pleased about his clothing, but of Yuna's ability to catch what he meant last night. Another thing to admire in her, although she was innocent she was still witty. Of course, she is a Summoner, and nothing less should be expected of her.

Because it was the day before the wedding, he let Yuna be alone. To have some peace of mind. He was happy, and envious at the same time that her guardians would be coming to visit her today. He got up from his chair, stood over his wedding outfit and picked it up, allowing its entire length to fall to the floor. With his mouth turned downwards, he faced his full-length gilded mirror. It was dramatic in design, about as dramatic as what Yuna would be wearing. Black, heavy and masculine.

Overall it was of black velvet, with a high oriental collar and a broad white sash to be worn around his waist. There were long elegant sleeves, with frills at the end. Standing there in front of the mirror he repeated out loud, ridiculing himself, "If it pleases you."

Just then, someone knocked on the door. "Come in." Seymour said grimly.

It was Pescal. "My lord, forgive me for bothering you when you said specifically not to be disturbed, but you're needed at the court. Remember that Yevonite terrorist who was on trial? He –Whoa!" Pescal did a double-take at what he saw in his master's hands.

The Maester craned his neck slightly to look at him, before saying in a bemused manner, "I give you full freedom of speech."

Pescal was grinning from ear to ear. "Sir! Your taste has definitely improved. You will look most charming in that tomorrow. Tromell will be proud of you! Did you choose that yourself?"

"No, I did not. Yuna did."

"I apologise for assuming my lord. Prithee, I beg your forgiveness." Bowed Pescal.

"Thou art forgiven."

Just then, there was yet another knock on the door. Seymour inwardly gritted his teeth and called out permission to enter, knowing who it was. Tromell, his over-caring and sometimes, over-protective butler. Again, the comments that made him feel very bashful came, tempting him to run and bury himself in a hole. ("Tromell, must I always endure such praise?")

"I shall stop now master Seymour." Tromell bowed low. "By the way my lord, have you chosen and prepared your tree of choice for after the wedding, and will it take place here, or back home at Guadosalam?"

"I have no fondness for suspense Tromell. I wish to have it done and over with. It will be in the greenhouse of Highbridge, I have already chosen the tree, and I will be preparing it, if it needs preparation today. I know Tromell, I do not keep my brain in my pocket, I chose a spot where camera-men and press will not be able to spy at. It is a superb angle, and very high up." He put down his groom's outfit and turned to Pescal, my claws will have to be sharpened for the feat. Pescal, Tromell, in an hour's time bring my tools and my talmek. I wish to see them on my table after I return from my bath."

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**End Of Chapter Five**


	6. Reunited Guardians

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

CHAPTER SIX

A Final Fantasy X fan-fic

Yuna waited at the entrance of the busy town centre of Bevelle. Around were people going about in their daily affairs of work. She knew it was the place to meet because while still on her pilgrimage before, Lulu and Wakka always told her that if she ever got lost, she was to wait at the entrance of the town's centre in question.

After a few short minutes, perspiring a little from the sunshine, she could make out the distinct and delightfully familiar figures in the distance walking. Yuna jumped and waved, smiling. Tidus and Rikku were waving back, enthusiastically in the sun, with Lulu, Wakka and faithful Kimahri following at the back.

"Yunie!" Squealed Rikku, pulling her cousin into a bear hug.

"Hey Yuna." Greeted Tidus. "Didcha miss me?" The usually upbeat teen looked weary this time, saying it in a partially sad smile.

Wakka was carrying a gift basket in his buff arms, and was sporting a deep tan in contrast to Lulu's fair complexion.

"Where is Sir Auron?" Asked Yuna anxiously, standing on tip-toe her head turning left and right trying to see if he was behind, or if he was standing silently behind Kimahri, as he sometimes did when he did not desire any attention.

"I don't know," said Rikku, "maybe he's late?"

Tidus came forward and patted Yuna on the back to console her, "I know Auron. He'll show up."

Lulu hugged Yuna said in her calm alto voice, "The wedding is tomorrow, are you all right?"

Yuna smiled said, "Yes. Just that I'm still getting used to the idea of a different life and fate."

As they made for a place to catch up, Wakka admitted, "You know Yuna, we're glad you won't be going to Zanarkand. We wanted you to live a good long life ya? It's why we wanted to stop you when you were a little kid."

"Tidus, are you okay?" Yuna asked.

As the teen remained silent, looking at his yellow shoes as he walked along, Lulu explained. "He just found out a few days ago that at the end of every pilgrimage a summoner will always die."

Wakka, with his gravity-defying hairstyle tried to make Tidus, his fellow blitzer smile by bumping him with his shoulder as they strolled and quipped, "told him that because he started cracking jokes on crashing your wedding."

"Sorry Yuna, I didn't know." Mumbled Tidus, hanging his head. He looked up, "But seriously! Do you even like the guy? I mean it's just plain wrong if you don't even like him!"

They continued, Yuna leading the way to the place where her favourite little garden was, with the wispy light-green shrubs and spurting fountains. "Well, he has his faults, but he's nice."

("He wears a dress!") By then, Tidus was positively dragging his feet.

Rikku told Tidus, "Oh come on, don't be so down. It's not like Yuna's marrying a _murderer _ or anything. I think he's kinda good-looking."

Finally Kimahri spoke up in his deep gruff voice, his matt blue fur a slightly lighter shade because the sun was so bright. "Kimahri happy Yuna smiles again."

At the word, "murderer" Yuna remembered the scene at the High court of Yevon. Seymour turning himself in so easily and without hesitation, for her. Then the awful night he spent in the dungeon... His bodily fluids pouring from his wounds, red and shining. With pyre flies. She did not know if it should be thought of as suspicious or not. It seemed that Mika was as good as his word, none of the news of Seymour's punishment reached the press. They had no idea.

Rikku waved her arm animatedly in front of Yuna's impassive face and called. "Hello Yunie... knock, knock. Is there anyone home?"

As Yuna snapped out of it and blinked Wakka and Lulu laughed. Lulu put her hand on her shoulder, her many belts clinking as she did and said, "It's just a wedding Yuna, you'll be fine."

"Nothin' to worry about, with Maester Seymour leading you and everything." Confirmed Wakka confidently. "I mean, of course, he's a Maester."

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After a few hours of chatting in the shade of the sunny and pleasantly warm garden, talking of fond memories past, Tromell appeared and bowed to the group.

"Lady Yuna, I am here to show your guardians to their guest rooms. May I?"

"Please do." Yuna bowed back politely.

Rikku jumped up with her arm stretched out in the air, and half-shouted "I'll be sharing Yunie's room! She needs company before the wedding tomorrow. And Lulu can come tomorrow and help her dress!"

Tromell chortled and replied, "Of course, it is in all our interests that master Seymour's wife-to-be, be as calm and collected as possible."

As they walked down the narrow but tall marble hallways and corridors the sounds of their footfalls reverberated off the hard surfaces all around, Wakka exclaimed, "Wow... Look at this place. Must be a privilege staying here."

While Tidus slouched, almost dragged himself to his room, Wakka and Lulu merrily passed Yuna her gift basket. Delighted and grateful she told them "No, not yet. Pass it to the concierge tomorrow. Thanks you guys!" She hugged the both of them with a big smile on her cute face.

Lulu smiled too, while Wakka shrugged and said, "Well... see you for dinner or something."

Before Yuna and her cousin Rikku went into the room to rest, Tromell asked, "Lady Yuna, it is not of my business to question but I need to know if or not to hold an extra room. Will Sir Auron be coming?"

Yuna answered uncertainly, "Honestly, I don't know if he will be coming Tromell. But I really hope he does."

Rikku shook her head vigourously and jumped once, assuming a crouching position, as if she were a fiend about to pounce, "That big meanie! He'll better show up, or he'll get a grenade! Boom!"

Tromell looked up at Rikku shocked, and Yuna quickly assured him, "She doesn't mean it literally."

"Ah. Forgive me for mistaking." Tromell smiled and bowed for a final time, turned around and left them in the now deserted rich and magnificent hallway.

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Bouncing on the day bed in Yuna's room, still looking around inquisitively and getting familiar with the ornate and fine furniture, Rikku asked, "So how's it feel to be engaged to leader of the Guado and Maester?"

"Intimidating!" Replied Yuna, rubbing her forearms. I know weddings in Bevelle and Besaid are similar, but nothing about Guado customs and rituals. From my last brief stay in Gaudosalam, I can tell that they are a deeply spiritual race." She sighed, as both looked out the window for a while, admiring the view of Bevelle and the peaceful blue sky outside.

"I know!" Piped Rikku. "They got a library here in Bevelle? We still got some time before dinner, let's go find the place! We're sure to find out what you need to expect!" Rikku tugged at Yuna's arm encouragingly.

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"Will you be fine solo my Lord?"

Pescal and Seymour were looking up at the canopy of trees, at the selected spot of the majestic Greenhouse of Highbridge.

"If I were to fall to my death the outcome would still be the same, with or without you Pescal." He said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

Pescal put his hand over his forehead as he squinted to see the top of the canopy, the light shining down from the sky. It was so high up, that it was difficult to see if it was touching the shimmering sphere pool, or just merely very close to it at one side.

"Forgive me Sir. But I still worry for you. When you were small, you were not as fast as the other younglings, and you fell often."

"I know." He stabbed his sharpened claws into the bark of the immensely thick tree and started climbing up. "And before you ask, I have all my tools with me, here in my talmek." He indicated his traditional Guado tree-climbing clothing, tight around the ankles, but baggy throughout, abounding with folds to allow maximum freedom of movement. For today, since he would be doing alot of manual activities at the top, and most likely sweating so he went topless. Tomorrow, he would be wearing a haori overcoat.

"My Lord? Pardon me but, your back is hideously scarred!"

"Thank you for telling me Pescal, I know."

To the average Yevonite, a Guado talmek would look like an unusual pair of baggy pants that rose almost past the waist, held there by a long broad sash, knotted neatly at the side. The fabric was thick and durable, and within its many folds items could be kept as if in pockets.

Presently Seymour wore a pale brown working talmek. As he moved somewhat easily upwards, he left gouge marks behind. He used his hands for steadying himself, and his feet for the actual climbing.

"Be careful my Lord!" Came the concerned call from below.

Seymour sighed and called back, "Of course." Because he was unpractised, he scrabbled and kicked a fair bit, scratching out shavings of bark and wood as he went higher and higher up the trunk, through the leaves and dappled sunlight he continued upwards, slowly getting the gist of it and by then, leaving nothing but neat small holes in the bark.

He stopped at the canopy to breathe in the fresh air, running the back of his forearm over his forehead to wipe off sweat that threatened to seep into his eyes. The emergent layer towered above him, and his neck was aching from looking upwards so much during his climb. Yes, this was the spot. The branches here grew in such a way that it almost seemed like a tree's giant gnarled hand, reaching towards the light, with leaves and soft moss on its finger tips, swaying gently as the wind blew, and yet steady and with a charming dependable feel to it.

Seymour drew out his tools and started hacking off the rough parts of the bark, sending splinters raining down. He had no time to look and observe the breath-taking view that almost seemed magical. How beautiful the white light shone in many tones, shades and changing tints between the translucent emerald green leaves meant nothing to him. He had to finish preparing this spot, for after the wedding tomorrow.

In the impressive library of Highbridge, high-ceilinged with gold chandeliers, Rikku and Yuna sat in a corner, immersed in a dusty encyclopaedia titled, "The Cultures Of Spira." This book was difficult to get, the two had to fetch a ladder to reach it. The shelves were so many, and at first when they just came in, they thought with dismay that they would never find the subject that was related, let alone the perfect book.

With the book on her lap, Rikku whispered to Yuna as she leant closer to look. "Yunie, Guado customs and traditions are so interesting! After the wedding, there's this ceremony called the '_Waiflur_.' When the newly-wed couple climb a tree of the man's choice, and near the canopy in a hammock, the husband becomes one with his wife. By Yevon..."

Yuna did not say anything, but covered her mouth. Her heart was hammering with discomfort and nervousness, the both of them knew what the book meant. She did not feel ready for such an endeavour. So soon... with him?

Rikku closed her eyes and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have suggested coming to the library, then you wouldn't have known!"

As she remained in a daze, she felt Rikku leading her to another part of the mildly dusty library, she could not think, her mind was sleeping it seemed, as Rikku pushed her into an old chair by a square table. "Yunie... snap out of it!" There was a dull thud of a book hitting the table, and a puff of dust and the sound of pages being turned. Again she felt Rikku's hand shaking her shoulder, and she turned to her, with a blank expression.

"This book is on biology. Look at the Guado section. I know, I know, Rikku you're too straight forward. But hey, at least you'll know what to expect right?" The Al Bhed hugged her reassuringly.

The Lady Summoner glanced at her supportive cousin, and then at the large illustrated book upon the table. It was on Guado anatomy, a picture of a male nude and a female nude.

"Well..." Giggled Rikku, "At least it's not like they're much bigger than human men." And it says here that the men have something similar to a woman's hymen in concept. It's called a '_dauma._' Can't be broken by masturbation, only by sexual union."

Yuna looked up and gave a tight-lipped smile and sighed. "I hope I'll be fine. Thanks Rikku, you've always been so supportive. But I'm still... uncomfortable about it."

"Why don't you tell him? I think he'll understand. It's not like he's gonna force you into it?"

Yuna shook her head slowly, "It's no good Rikku. I must do it, when I took up his offer in marriage, I should have expected this from the start, and I'm going to be responsible. And be a dutiful wife."

Rikku stood there, her hypnotic green spiral eyes observing Yuna, and her determination. "You know Yuna, you're so brave!"

Yuna cheered up a little and replied, "You are too Rikku, just in a different way. I don't think I'd ever dare to play with explosives and chemicals the way you do! Anyway, I think it's time we went and met the rest for dinner."

The mood lightened as they laughed, and left.

At dinner, Yuna sat with her dear guardians and enjoyed their company and conversation. Lord Seymour was not present, saying that he had "things to attend to." He told Pescal to arrange for dinner outside in the open, under the twinkling stars near the fountain garden. The one that he noticed Yuna liked so much on the evening he took her to the White Ochu.

"This place is beautiful." Said Lulu, admiring the skilfully carved sculptures and flowing fountains.

There were more than two dozen sculptures and fountains. All in polished stone, some of heroes and heroines in intricate armour, others of powerful and legendary aeons, and one fountain was of a band of joyous musicians, water running from their instruments as they played. At this time of the evening, the place was lit by lampposts. For extra light, Seymour ordered torches to be brought and placed around the table and chef. It added to the warm atmosphere and gentle mood.

"Yuna, we have to eat alot. Signs of satisfaction are when you can't breath... when you feel really sick, and when you feel like puking." Said Tidus, who for fun, was shovelling food into his mouth in an exaggerated pace that made every one sitting at the table laugh.

"Get a load of this joker ah?" Coughed Wakka, who had nearly choked on his food. Rikku was laughing with Lulu, and Kimahri solemnly shook his head.

"I wonder if Auron would be sorry that he missed this..." Thought Tidus aloud. "I miss 'em."

"Me too." Said Yuna. If he were here, what would he say? She imagined, what would he think of her choice. Stopping suddenly and all, she remembered that he looked as though he did not approve. He looked somewhat troubled even, as if he knew something that the rest did not.

The chef in his white uniform was serving them more hot food, laying more onto their plates, encouraging them to eat slowly and enjoy to themselves. For, "It is not often that a Summoner marries a Maester, and it is reason to be merry and celebrate."

Wakka raised his cup and announced, "To Yuna, and a happy marriage with Maester Seymour ya?" As he did, everyone raised their cups while Yuna blushed.

"To Yuna!" Said everyone together.

"Yuna," began Tidus, "if he doesn't treat you right, tell me okay?"

Before she could reply, Wakka once again had Tidus in a tight head-lock. "Hey, we all got Yuna's best interest too you know, don't go doing anything dumb tomorrow!"

The next morning came very fast for Yuna. In the night she prayed, but no fayth came to answer her prayers. In the morning, Rikku did as she promised, she came to see her and make certain that everything was all right.

Already wearing her pale orange dress for the occasion, Rikku stood there in Yuna's chamber, with her hands on her hips and said, "C'mon. Let's get you ready. Lulu will be over in minute."

When there was a knock on the door, and Rikku went to let Lulu in, Yuna was putting on her soft bridal gown. She smiled when she saw her reflection in the mirror, she felt like a totally different person. She did not look cute anymore, she looked stunning. Beautiful. Her brow furrowed as she wondered what was Seymour doing at that very moment.

"You look like a woman now." Said Lulu quietly, standing by the doorway. She was wearing a bare-backed, dark maroon-brown dress.

Even Rikku was silent.

Yuna laughed, "Guys, my hair isn't done yet, don't go scaring me! Am I _that_ ugly?"

With a small smile, Lulu closed the door behind her, came towards the bride and started combing her hair. There was nothing more that anybody could say. What was there to say?

An hour later, a pious monk visited Yuna's room. "The wedding will be in a few moments time. Miss Rikku, Miss Lulu, please let me show you to your seats. You are seated close with your associates." He bowed his head, and showed the way with his outstretched arm. Before he closed the door behind him, he said politely to Yuna. "Lady Yuna? Lord Seymour himself will come and fetch you from here when the moment is nigh." The door shut. She had never felt more alone or isolated in her life, like a single blade of grass quivering in the wind before a storm.

Her heart leapt when she heard the door. Slowly, she forced herself onto her feet and went to answer it. She thought to herself, that this was it. This was the moment, and then it would lead to that. The knob of the door felt very cold, and it seemed heavier than she remembered, it creaked as she turned the knob and pushed it open.

She gasped. Standing there in the threshold was Sir Auron.

**End Of Chapter Six**


	7. Together Forever

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X Fan-fic

CHAPTER SEVEN

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"Sir Auron!"

"Aren't you going to let me in? Your fiance' will be here in a few minutes. Normally I wouldn't dress like this, but I did it to be polite for the occasion."

" Oh!" She moved aside hastily, and let her most famous guardian through.

He did have his usual look, but now he wore black instead of red, the black brought out the greying hair at his temples. He appeared even more wise and mysterious than ever, with his dark shades hiding his eyes. One closed shut forever with a nasty scar, the other alert and intense.

"Yuna, there is not much time. I can only tell this to you alone, and I have other things I must do. I can't stay long after the wedding either." The tone of his rough voice turned serious, "Know this. You cannot stay here forever, you must fulfil your destiny as High Summoner and defeat Yu Yevon. Think about it - "

"Yu Yevon? But Sir Auron, you don't know, I promised Lord Seymour that I would -"

Her experienced guardian repeated more firmly this time, in a tone she knew well when he meant every single solitary word, "Just know it, and think about it. I will see you again."

There was another knock on the door, and from outside they heard the distinct voice of Maester Seymour.

"Yuna, open the door. It is time."

Auron opened the door before Yuna could react, and surprised Seymour with his presence. Seymour greeted, "A pleasure to see you again Sir Auron. Would you need assistance in finding your seat?"

"No, I'll stand at the back and watch." He said sullenly, and left without doing or saying anything else.

Seymour, fully dressed turned his head and watched Yuna's guardian stride off and turned to her, holding out his clawed hand, "My lady."

"My lord." She held his hand, her mind brimming with many questions and confused thoughts, allowing him without any resistance, to lead her through the corridor, and down to the outdoor aisle filled with silent monks and citizens.

"You look stunning my lady." He whispered to her.

An instrumental band played, in the crowd Yuna spotted her guardians waving to her as she and Seymour passed by. At the far end, amongst lavish decorations, pale yellow ribbons and bells were Maesters Mika, Kelk and Kinoc.

Under the calm expression that Seymour wore, he too was also equally nervous. But unlike Yuna, it was only because of the ceremony that was about to take place. He held her shaking hand more tightly to comfort her and give her strength, leading her straight down to where the wedding priest stood with the book of Yevon.

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"In the name of Yevon, I now pronounce you as one. Husband and wife, may you live and die as one. You may kiss the bride." Announced the elderly priest.

Unsteadily, Seymour with his hands on her shoulders brought his lips to hers and kissed her. With his eyes closed it hurt him, cutting like a knife when he felt her flinch at his kiss, she still most likely saw him as a stranger. He drew away, looking into her eyes. She was looking back at him, her eyes serious, and filled with obligation.

The both of them felt nothing, and heard nothing. Of the brass wedding bells ringing, the crowd cheering and clapping. At that moment they knew that they belonged to each other, husband and wife, and yet strangers.

He squeezed her small hands, they were cold. There in front of the crowd, she laid her head onto his shoulder for comfort. Seymour was thankful for it, but at the same time hurt. He could smell... he knew she did it because she had no choice.

He whispered to her, "Yuna. I will take care of you. I promise you that." She responded by turning her head on his shoulder. He led her away from the spectators, she seemed as though she was in a trance. As though she was in shock. Away from the noise, he continued to cradle her.

"Yuna, are you all right?"

"Yes, just a little dazed that's all." She spoke softly, leaning onto him.

"Do you want me to leave you alone with your guardians?"

"No." She held his massive hands, and closed her eyes. Uneasy, and yet she could not deny that she was drawn to him, in a dark sort of attraction. She was thinking of what would he do to her during waiflur, how was she going to tell him what Sir Auron told her, how was she-

"Yuna, you think too much. I'm here, don't be afraid." Reassured Lord Seymour steadily, gently lifting her face up so that he could look at her. "What is it that you fear? Tell me."

She shook her head, and he did not try to force it out of her. Gently he led her to the edge of the garden near the party, and they sat under the shadow of a tree. He could feel her nervousness, her heart was thumping hard in her chest, and she maintained her torpid state. He leaned back onto the tree trunk, allowing her to lay her head onto his chest.

She did not notice as he undid part of his groom's vest, "Listen to my heart beat Yuna, its rhythm will calm you." Over and over again, he cast focus on her, hoping to bring her out of that terrible state. He did not like the way some people were already starting to look curiously at them. Of course, they were decent enough to leave the newly-weds alone.

After a few moments, she became better and apologised to Seymour. As if suddenly realising what she had been doing the entire time, she ran from him, humiliated to where her guardians were. Not wanting anymore attention from the cameras, he went to take a glass of wine, and proceeded to sit at the most deserted area of the party. He was feeling horribly guilty, but he did not know why, or what caused him to feel as such. No matter, maybe the wine might relax him.

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_An hour later..._

"So, what are you doing here, being pathetic and sitting alone?"

Slightly high from alcohol, Seymour turned to see who was rudely addressing him. Of course, it was Maester Kinoc. Who else but he would address him in such a manner? Seymour closed his eyes and turned away, openly ignoring the human Maester. Presently he did not feel like having a swearing match, or speaking to anybody for that matter.

"Look at you. Your bride is openly flirting with a younger man, and you sit here and do nothing about it!"

The half-Guado looked to where Yuna was. Far away, at a table with her guardians. The boy with blond hair, and strange pants had his arm over her shoulder, he seemed to be telling her something. Seymour did feel jealousy bite into him, but the rational part of him told him that it was platonic. He drank deeply the red wine from his cup, wanting to lose himself.

Kinoc pushed Seymour, causing him to spill his wine over the table top. "Look at you, you're even more pathetic than usual. She doesn't even care about you, while you sit here and get drunk! _You're_ _just like how your father was_!"

There was a bright red blaze when Kinoc soared back, thrown by the force of black magic. Seymour had cast Flare straight into his pudgy face. Immediately, surprised he got up, and hastily dusted himself off. The noise caused commotion, there were at least three sphere cameras onto them, recording their spat.

Maester Seymour looked fierce with murderous intent, panting as if he was almost rabid.

"I'll get back to you fool." Hissed Kinoc, not interested in any bad publicity, he hastily left stumbling on the grass, before the sphere camera men got a chance to interview him. They did not dare go ask Maester Seymour, anyone could see he was not all there at the moment.

His throbbing mind all in a dreadful and angry blur, Seymour turned and went away quickly. He did not hear his dear Yuna calling out to him, he wanted to get away from all the noise, voices, people and their opinions, he wanted to get away from everything. It was taking all of his restraint to not chase down Kinoc and kill him on the spot.

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It was in the early evening, when Pescal spoke to Tromell. "Where is master Seymour? Do you think he will be late for Waiflur?"

"The way he ran off like that. So much the better maybe, instead of losing his control. Alot of worse things could have happened." Mumbled Tromell, looking at the darkening sky.

"I was fully prepared to restrain him. I was fearful, I knew what was happening to him. Did you see the look in his eyes?"

Tromell laid a hand to his forehead. "Never-mind the way he looked. Master Seymour smelt like sulphur and fire!"

"Pardon me," Came a soft voice from behind. Pescal and Tromell turned around and bowed, when they saw it was Yuna.

"Where has lord Seymour gone, what happened to him?" Inquired Yuna.

The two man servants exchanged uncertain glances.

"I demand to know where he went, and what happened to him!" Persisted Yuna, more fiercely this time.

"We do not know where he went... but we do know what happened to him." Began Pescal, "It has not happened for many months. He..." Pescal faltered in his speech, his brow was knit. As if explaining what had happened was a terribly difficult task.

"The last time it happened was a few days before Lord Jyscal's death. We did not however, suspect that master Seymour was the one who killed him." Tromell gazed downwards, unable to meet Yuna's eyes. "When he ever got into such a state, we knew in the past that he would become violent and reckless. Forgive us Lady Yuna! How could we speak ill of the master we serve?"

"We knew only after his trial in the dungeons that he could also commit murder - in that state." Said Pescal guiltily.

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What really happened that time was this. It was very late in the night, Seymour was with Lord Jyscal, in the empty dining hall of the lord's manor of Guadosalam. Lord Jyscal was lecturing Seymour about why he brought him back from Baaj island. In that great empty hall, Jyscal's voice echoed monotonously off the walls, the air still and stagnant. Seymour was sitting opposite his nagging father, staring off into the abyss. No content went into Seymour's conscience, he was not paying attention at all, just listening to the hateful tone of his father's weary voice.

He sat there, aware of everything. The light dancing from the candles, the shadows black and grey. The sweet incense steadily burning, smelling of dried fruits and smoke. The fine linen covering the long table, the softness of the seat of his chair. Even how late it was getting, he just did nothing and sat there stoically as his father went on and on. He saw everything, but not truly did he see or understand his father just two feet away from him. Very close, but with a distance that cannot be easily explained. It was distance of emotional and intellectual worlds.

Although he was sitting there on that chair in the manor, his mind was transported to back to Baaj. That island, that was always was frigidly cold but with no snow, with grey bruised clouds hovering overhead. Always dark, with very little sunshine. With that statue of his mother, on the floor of the temple chamber. In a crystal dome, beautiful as she was in life, but rigid and dead. He could not even see her dear face, just her back, and her forearms wrapped in chains. Around her was purple velvet, and bright magenta silk. The warm orange light in the chamber glowing on her skin. Oh! For years, always he knelt there, and he was denied even to touch her statue for comfort! Comfort that he desperately needed. Curse that crystal dome.

His dream dissolved. He was back again in the dining hall, with his father. When he got up, his chair over-turned. At that moment he had lost himself, everything and all, of himself. He raised his shivering hands to strangle his father, who stood there as if expecting it, and made no attempt to fight off his son Seymour.

When Jyscal fell onto the floor choking, unable to breathe, Seymour continued to throw blows at his father. Even though his father was already unconscious, he stamped on his body so hard, in which (if there were any witnesses to hear) the bones were audibly broken, and the body jumped upon the carpet.

After which, he ran as a maniac from the hall. His father the victim of an overkill. The next morning, he woke up dazed in Macalania temple within the icy chamber of the fayth. He was awakened by Pescal crying to him to come out of the chamber. ("Your father has been murdered.") Pescal was desperate and defiant enough to break the rules, and come in looking for Seymour.

Seymour's state and lethargic manner was misinterpreted as shock to the news of his father's death. No one knew much about his feelings of loathing for his father. They knew that Seymour was not close to Jyscal, avoiding his father whenever possible. The only contact was when Jyscal needed to speak to Seymour about temple affairs, or lecture him about doing things properly. That was all.

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When he came to, Seymour found himself lying somewhere on a huge rock face, there was the roar of a nearby waterfall, swirling white vapour filled the air. The place was totally sterile and scentless. The sky was part orange and pink, floating in the midnight blue and jet back clouds was a pale blue sun. Trees with vermillion red leaves swayed in the sensationless wind, he was in the farplane.

Hovering above him, was the granite platform where visitors usually stood to visit their missed-dead. He gathered that he must have fallen from there, in another one of his hated intense emotional episodes. His body was stiff, and he sat up, imagining how long was he vulnerable and unconscious. He fought to recall what did he do, he examined his knuckles. Un-injured, his mental points (MP) were still all there. No magic was used... His groom's clothing was not torn, burnt or bloody, meaning he did not engage in fights. All he could tell was that he ran here, maybe ridden a chocobo back to Guadosalam.

He feel back onto the solid rock, ignoring the pain the hardness caused, in relief with his eyes shut. After a moment of resting, he cast Float and brought himself back to the grey platform. He would have to get back to Bevelle on chocobo back. He hurried out of the Farplane, ignoring the beauty and calm around him, and was greatly relieved when he asked one of his surprised faithful Guado subjects, what day and what time it was. ("Congratulations my Lord, we saw you wed Lady Yuna on the sphere this afternoon!") He would be back in Bevelle just in time for Waiflur.

He had better make it back as soon as possible, Yuna could be thinking that he might have abandoned her. Heaven forbid, what a way to start a marriage! Then there would be the lengthy lectures from Tromell if he found out... Mentally slapping himself he thought, "Of course he's found out."

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**End Of Chapter Seven**


	8. Waiflur: On Baaj

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X Fan-fic

CHAPTER EIGHT

--

He was just in time. A little late perhaps, but not to the extent of being rude. He made his way to his private chamber in Bevelle and changed into his talmek. He was confident that Pescal would have brought Yuna to the green house to wait for him, and he was thankful for having such competent and thoughtful butlers.

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"Yuna. Forgive me for being irresponsible. Now. Let us get this done and over with." Seymour said.

In the day the green house of Highbridge was beautiful, but at night it was magical with no peer. The moon light shone through the glass, sky and sphere pool. The stars could be seen through the rippling water, as well as the rich and dark blue sky. It seemed as though while looking through the water, the stars were magnified, and as the water undulated, so did the white stars, as if they were alive. Mesmerising and enchanting it was, that unforgettable scene.

"Pescal, my praise for bringing her here, and guarding her with vigilance. Where is Tromell?"

"Thank you your grace. He has gone off to find you master." Informed Pescal.

"I see. When and if you see him, tell him not to worry, I am unhurt. Leave us now."

"As you wish my Lord." Pescal bowed with a hand on his chest showing sincerity, took a few steps backwards as a gesture of respect, then turned and left.

He took her by the hand, and led her to his chosen tree. "I will be carrying you up Yuna. Put your arms around my neck, and with your legs grip my torso. I will not feel safe with you on my back, I would rather you stay on my front, between myself and the tree. I will carry the canvas on my shoulder."

Silent and contemplative, she did as he bid her. Without emotion, she put her arms around his neck. Both him and her were bare-footed, and he climbed up with her on his lap.

He noticed her mood. Why was she like this again? Did she fear him so much... or did she know about Waiflur...?

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With Yuna in that state, the climb up was not at all pleasant. Seymour climbed as fast as he could, clawing up the vertical tree, wanting to end it all as soon as possible. But his speed made Yuna feel worse, she could see the beauty around her, but it all felt offensive to her senses, she would much rather hide in a dark and secure place. Now with no ground at her feet, and being exposed at every angle, she felt more unsafe than ever.

She thought at any moment she was going to faint. Before she noticed, they reached the lush canopy. He sat her down on a branch, she heard the sound of the canvas flapping, as Seymour hung up the dark green hammock. She felt her eyes burning, and she began to cry. Then felt herself being gathered up in his lithe arms, and held firmly onto his chest. They were already in the hammock. They were so high up, how could the climb be so swift? When she felt his hands on her shoulders, she began weeping uncontrollably.

"Yuna..."

His face was close to hers, in the dark she could feel his warm breath on her cheek as he spoke. She clung onto his clothing tightly, pulling at it and banging her head once onto his collar. Her voice unsteady and angry, she hissed into his clothing, "Get it over with!"

"Yuna.." He held onto her shaking hands, and tried in vain to stop her from struggling.

Yuna by now was almost hysterical, thumping her fist onto Seymour's chest completely unaware it seemed, that they were very high off the ground, and if they fell it would mean certain death.

"Yuna, Yuna. Stop it, STOP IT!" Lord Seymour bellowed. He shook her roughly.

She bit her lip and stared back at him, trapped and startled.

His voice mellowed, "You're scared that I will rape you." He stroked her hair, wiping her face sentimentally with his sleeve. He continued, "I will never, and you know I will not."

Yuna still looked at him, before gradually calming down. Her heart still was beating so loud. "Why...?" She breathed a shuddering breath. Their faces only an inch apart.

Seymour looked into her eyes, his gaze unwavering and steady. "Because I love you, and I will never violate you. My love for you has not blinded me, and I am aware that you are but seventeen." With her face so close, he wanted to kiss her, he wanted to at least rub his cheek against hers, but he knew that he could not. He resisted that thought bravely. She was terrified of his affection.

She looked at him, before she laid her head back onto his shoulder. "Thank you Lord Seymour."

"Are you better now?" Seymour soothed. "I see that the mood this evening has already been ruined- badly." He leaned heavily back into the hammock, and sighed as once again Yuna was lying on top of him. His smooth tenor voice never failed to calm her. "If you cannot see me as your lover," he felt her tense at the word, "at least see me as your dear friend. I just wish to be close to you. Since all is ruined, you may ask me anything you wished to at The White Ochu."

Yuna sniffed softly, and put her lower lip between her teeth. Seymour allowed her some moment of silence to recover. The hot smell of fear and dread, that just moments before came so saturated from her skin, slackened. Breathing was abit awkward, with her on his person, but it filled him with a guilty contentment all the same. He looked up, at the stars, and the patterns the water made. A zephyr blew, making the leaves whisper amongst themselves.

"You don't seem good person, you _are_ a good person Seymour. Why would you want to kill people?"

"To release them from the pain of living. To save them from the endless wrath of Sin."

"Was it because you were left alone on Baaj?"

"Who told you that?" He asked, with no malice in his voice.

"When you were resting after, your trial in the dungeons. Tromell and Pescal told me. But they couldn't tell me much... because you yourself didn't tell them everything. They said when they found you, you were eating from the corpse of a behemoth. Why were you crying... tell me?"

Seymour thought for a moment, on how to begin. It happened so long ago... and it was all faint in his mind. "That behemoth. She followed me all the way from Zanarkand."

"She?"

"Yes, 'she'...- it was immediately after my mother died. My mother Amina was dying. She ...said she was dying."

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When one is terminally ill, and when one knows that every slow passing day means a step closer to death, one is bound to have strange thoughts... disturbing ideas born from the mind clinging desperately to life. Lady Amina was one such individual, she could not think properly. She wanted to keep her son safe. But how could she? She would no longer be around anymore, and there was no one else.

On Baaj island, she thought... maybe she could sacrifice herself, and become the final Aeon. The love between herself and her son was very strong, she was sure. She was sure that together, they would be able to beat Sin. At first she was hesitant and unsure. How could she kill her own son? He was so young, filled with innocence and with a non-judgemental personality. He even was starting to display having the gift of manipulating pyre flies, meaning he could be a summoner.

As the days passed, she got weaker. She was like a dying bouquet of flowers. She told Seymour many times that she was going to die, and that painful fact could not be altered. The idea of becoming the final aeon got stronger, as her body and reason faded with terminal illness. Who was going to take care of Seymour when she died? There would be no one. He would have no one. The chances of him returning to civilisation were non-existent, he was a freak. It would be cruel to let him live, "yes", she thought weakly. "He will die together with me. And then since in life he cannot be accepted, then in death he shall be."

With all her strength, she left the island with her weeping son. Still sane enough to do magic, they walked over the whipping waves. Her confused son tugged with all his might. Yelling himself hoarse, begging her to stop. She did not, she would not. When he was too tired of pulling her, he followed her helplessly.

By the time they reached Zanarkand the holy land, the child was hysterical. Every step in the dark was forced, agonising because he was walking his mother to her death, feeling pathetically weak, stupid and helpless, he continued to bawl. It was going to happen, she was going to die. In a few moments, in a few seconds right in front of him. Stopping her was like trying to stop water from seeping out of cupped palms.

But the truth that he could not stop her would not sink into him and take hold. Over and over he repeated how much he loved her, how much he needed her. Why did she have to go? He screamed how much he did not care if or not other people hated him, or saw him as an abomination, so what if they did? In the entire world there was no one as important as his mother.

"I don't have... much time left."

"I don't care about them mother! Please... don't go."

"I am going to die Seymour."

"Let's go back. Please stay with me longer, why do you have to die now? Even if it's just a little while... please mother! Let's go back, I don't want you to die like that!"

The unbalanced woman did not stop. Her illness, coupled with the unbearable loneliness had snapped her reason and judgement. Even perhaps her mind. Amina ignored her son's debilitated pleas and went into the ancient dome, her son although almost lifeless from trying to stop her, continued to follow wretchedly. There they found Lady Yunaleska.

Amina whispered emotionlessly, "It's not so bad Seymour, when I die the my pain will be over..."

There were pyre flies swarming everywhere in the decrepit area, he could smell and hear them, their haunting sounds coming from every direction. The half-breed child felt as though he could not breathe, he stood there and watched in resigned horror, Yunaleska doing what she did for a thousand years. Butcher people.

His mother claimed to be his guardian, and her son to be a summoner. Yunaleska the unsent had no heart, reason, or compassion to notice that the summoner was a crying and frightened little boy, and that his mother was mentally unsound. Flippantly she proceeded. The boy did not watch the horrific scene just before him. His mother mutated and transformed, shrieking in pain.

He screamed out her name, but she did not answer. But she continued to grow and mutate, flesh expanding and bubbling, increasing in height. Into a monster mostly without skin. It was a wonder that he did not pass out. It was bold and clear, whatever was happening was irreversible.

Of course, when the beautiful and deadly unsent told him the truth of it all, he ran.

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"I think, I managed to make it out of the dome. I cannot remember much more... but I was followed the next day when I woke up."

"The behemoth?"

"Yes. She followed me all the way back to Baaj. I thought I would lose it on the water, but it used its own magic to follow me. On Baaj island I suddenly regained the will to live, and I summoned my mother. The behemoth did not attack, but retreated. It was then the statue of my mother appeared, and a dome condensed over her. Her aeon was within me, I could feel it. Do you know the feeling after you have received an aeon my dear? Of course you do. The behemoth could have killed me, in that groggy state, but she did not."

"Why?" Asked Yuna, curious and no longer afraid of him.

Seymour thought for a while. "...I think it was because she was drawn to me, that we had something in common. When I looked into her eyes... I sensed she stayed and refused to go to the Farplane because she had lost a very young loved one. I think she was, like in fairy tales... a 'half-fiend' of some sort."

"I've always heard stories of them, too weak to assume a human shape, but strong enough to keep away from the Farplane." Mused Yuna, now she too, lay on her back next to him in the hammock to gaze at the stars above in the blackness. "How did you know it was a she?"

"After she and I became friends, I knew because she was so maternal, so protective of me. I am sure that you are curious Yuna. We Guado live near the Farplane, knowing everything about pyre flies, and therefore also fiends that are born from them. We can communicate with certain fiends through emotion and smell. It is how we manipulate fiends in times of war as minions."

"Like in the great war between the Ronso and the Guado?"

He nodded. "Both are races who know things about fiends. That first night, after my mother appeared as the fayth sealed in a statue, it rained. Too weak to fight, I lay there and allowed myself to get wet, I thought that the behemoth was going to devour me. But instead, she used her colossal body to shelter me from the rain. A behemoth taking care of a little boy! It did not feel real, all like a dream. I was just very lucky. I should not be alive right here with you now."

"If you didn't meet her, then..."

"Fate was kind to me. Either that, or fate was cruel to me. Living was so much more painful."

"What was it like being cared by her?"

"I learnt most of my magic from her. And as I grew up, when I was bored I would spar with her... And what sparring matches they were!" He laughed. "Initially with one paw she could easily push me back onto the ground. As I grew, she would be on all fours, pushing me with her horns. We became evenly matched."

Yuna recalled how easily he pushed away sin spawn Gui at Operation Mi' ihen. It made perfect sense, it was no longer a mystery as to how he got that strong. Actually, there was no special reason to be afraid of Seymour. She turned her head up at him, "Everyday?"

"My dear, when one is on an island with absolutely nothing..."

Yuna stifled a laugh in response, one of the few times she laughed in front of him that day. Then she frowned abit and asked, "But why... but what happened that she died?"

Yuna saw his expression change quickly into a picture of sadness, his lips drew into a serious line. "She got attacked by other fiends when I went swimming one day. As you know, behemoths do not swim. When I returned she was beaten, and dying. Like all beasts, she was practical, and told me to eat her flesh. She spoke to me through emotion, not to waste food."

"Oh Seymour..."

"As she lay there dying, I ate from her wounds." His voice not at all calm anymore, trembled with misery, "She expressed to me that it was the last thing she could do to care for me, sad that she would leave me, yet happy that she could go. Go to the place to finally rest, the Farplane."

She squeezed his hand, and pressed her forehead onto his shoulder.

"Yuna, forgive me. I cannot continue..." He looked as though he was going to cry. He shook his head, "I think we have been up here long enough. They can assume whatever they want about what we did here. Come."

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Descending was much faster than climbing, he seemed to slide-scratch down the tree, sending brittle splinters and dry bark flying, again with Yuna in the same position as before, with the green hammock on his shoulder.

When they got down, he told her that tomorrow they would be returning to Guadosalam and Macalania temple, as he had classes to teach.

--

**End Of Chapter Eight**


	9. Back To School

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X Fan-fic

CHAPTER NINE

--

"Maester Seymour is back! Maester Seymour is back!" In Guadosalam a child screamed excitedly at the top of his lungs, running about the ground near the tree trunks. The sun was just peering through the foliage, haven risen only recently. He ran through his neighbourhood, repeating what he said bounding quickly along.

From a branch, the leaves rustling in the breeze, a girl hopped down to join her school mate in spreading the news.

"I saw him and summoner Lady Yuna coming by chocobo!"

"Really? There'll be school today! Yay!"

Before long, the whole of Guadosalam heard of the news that their Lord would be returning, along with his Lady. Many stood in the street. Some waved their clawed hands, while others bowed their heads in respect.

In the trundling chocobo carriage, Yuna exclaimed as she observed through the window and drapes, "Your people really do love you."

"As their ruler I try not to disappoint them." Sighed Seymour, not turning to look at Yuna who was sitting right next to him.

Yuna noticed that he was slumping forward and looked moody. Then again, there were many events in the past days, and it was to be expected that he would be tired. "Can I come with you later to Macalania?" She asked, brushing his thick blue hair out of the way, so that she could see his face better.

He gave a weak smile, and chided, his eyes meeting hers. "You should rest my lady." When he saw that she gave him an quizzical look, he flirted with her, to try and tell her that there was nothing the matter. "Have you not had enough of me for the past few days?"

"Can I still come visit later?"

"Of course, but I want that you rest first." He was relieved that she was all right again. It pained him to see her in distress of any kind. It pained him to know that he had done something very selfish in order to have her. Suddenly, he felt very irresponsible. It was like a rusty manacle latched onto his conscience.

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Alone in her husband's private chamber she went to sleep quickly, the smell of fresh moss and the sound of leaves rustling outside was very calming. As she fell asleep, she told herself that at least Seymour was someone she should trust. But there were... secrets she had not yet found out about his strange and rather questionable character.

Before yesterday, she had no idea that he was at logger heads with Maester Kinoc. Then there was the moment when he suddenly ran away like a frightened animal from the party... Tromell and Pescal said that it had ever happened before.

What was wrong with him?

As she started to fall asleep, her thoughts wandered further. As do ours, when we are just about to go to that wonderful place of rest and unconsciousness.

She remembered Sir Auron. With her eyes shut, she recollected what he said. How could she leave? There was no way she could, she had promised Seymour to stay. Bring the Calm, make people happy and feel safe, she wished she could... But now she did not like the idea of dying anymore. There were so more many things in life that she could learn, so much more about Spira to see and experience.

As a last thought, she confirmed that there were many other summoners on their way to fight Sin. And as Seymour said, Sin _always_ returns.

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"Teacher! Teacher!" Called the youngling at Seymour's feet.

"We missed you!" Cried another jumping up and down.

"For one week we got Priest Wenex. He's so fierce!"

"He yelled at us the other day!" Whined another from the back.

Maester Seymour stood outdoors, near his manor surrounded by two dozen Guado younglings. Aged roughly from six to nine, all in green and brown schooling tunics. He beamed at the sight of their bobbing heads, and bushy hair of nearly every colour. Delighted to see him, they pulled at his sleeves, and clustered around his middle, looking up at him.

"Did he now? Do tell me what happened." He said, getting down on one knee, and pushing his heavy satin robe out of the way, so that he came face to face with his lively students.

"We were playing catch the fiend and tame him!" Explained a youngling with tan skin and yellow hair.

"He said it was _evil_!" Cried another, rolling his amber eyes expressively.

He knelt there with his arms around as many as possible, with a calm expression. Listening patiently while they protested and confided in him, as though the priest had done something seriously immoral, like banning all fun and play forever.

Inwardly he sighed, because Priest Wenex was not a Guado. He was a Yevonite stationed here by some (in Seymour's opinion) incompetent official or rather from Bevelle. Wenex was... not very aware of Guado's customs, and it did not help either that he was a stereotypical man.

When they saw that their teacher was going to speak, they immediately fell silent, and kept their questions for after he was through speaking. As he had taught them.

"Priest Wenex does not know about our customs. The next time he scolds you, enlighten him. And now I want you all to forgive him, and remember that not all Yevonites are like him." He spoke in his soft tenor voice.

There were indignant groans and cries of protest, some moved restlessly, but they fell silent again, respecting their teacher.

Lord Seymour, still on one knee asked in a firm tone of voice. "Why must you forgive Priest Wenex?"

The Guado younglings became physically still for a moment, and then together they said, their soft voices blending nicely, "Because he did not know any better."

Seymour lowered his head expectantly, and turned his ear to the side. He caught the scent of slight suspense.

Their small faces took on a look of pained concentration, before they began again, more subdued and hushed now. "Because he cared about us, and meant no true harm."

"That is correct. And?"

"The only time we will not have forgiveness is when the other has purposeful intentions to hurt for no rhyme or reason." They recited.

He sighed, bringing them all into a group hug. "I am proud that you all remember."

Sensing that they had been forgiven, they touched and stroked his hair as well as his ears. All young Guado children often did so to elders and parental figures, showing affection. This is not a custom because no Guado younglings were taught to do it. Rather, it is behavioural and instinctive, reflecting the gentle and general loving nature of the Guado.

One of the more unruly children abruptly said, "But I still don't like him."

He laughed at the youngling's rudeness that had come out of pure honesty. "Come. Lesson time begins soon."

"Maester Seymour?" Came a small voice from the back.

"Yes my dear?"

A youngling with pale green hair, one hand clasped her friend's hand, while the other tugged his sleeve. "Will you ever go away for so long again?"

Her friend who had slate grey hair and eyes to match agreed and whined, "We really missed you!"

While Seymour led the flock of younglings, he said, "Not likely." He understood well, that to them, one week felt very much like forever. All around him, he smelt their response still of welcoming back to the temple as their teacher.

"Teacher, can we go sit by the brook today while you teach?"

"Away from Priest Wenex!" Piped a youngling with red hair.

The moment he nodded, there were musical cries of delight. They ran ahead of him on the sandy gravel path, already knowing the familiar way there.

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It was later in the afternoon, when Yuna strolled to where Tromell and Pescal said Lord Seymour sometimes held his lessons. On her way there, she saw him. She was surprised at the unlikely sight.

The area next to the flowing brook was of a field, with knee-high grass. Here and there were large grey boulders, the field had no trees. When the wind blew, the pale grass rippled and waved much like waves of the sea. With his back against a very large rock, he was asleep with two children on his lap, another two on either side of him, and all around were children sleeping. The children were wearing green and brown school tunics. It was obviously nap time, and she could tell that he was as tired as she was. He must have fallen asleep with them.

She carefully made her way to him, the long grass tickling her ankles and shins as she went. There she sat with her back against the same rounded boulder, a little ways away. "Seymour?" She whispered his name. His eyes slowly opened at the sound of her voice.

"Yuna..." His eyes adjusted, and a smile played on his lips. "Where are you?"

"Nearby." She whispered, "Leaning on the same stone."

"How embarrassing that you have seen me like this." He turned his head to where her voice was coming from. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Yes."

He took in a deep refreshing breath, and the sight of the slumbering younglings around him. "I can smell you from here Yuna. I do not appear to be suited for tutoring young children to you?"

Yuna felt a blush creep to her cheeks at that statement, embarrassed of him knowing what she thought. "You are full of surprises."

Evidently, he would rather they were here, alone. He asked her softly, "Do I look so cruel a man?"

The Lady summoner was silent. For that time, only the sound of the grass and the wind could be heard.

"I assure you it is fine Yuna. I wish you to be honest to me, as I am honest with you." Seymour said. His tone gentle, not cunning or menacing.

Yuna put her hands together before answering uncertainly, "Yes, and no."

Seymour thought about what she said. "I shall see you later in the night, you can tell me what you mean." He stretched abit and began to wake his students.

A youngling blinked the sleep from his eyes and yawned, remembering just in time to cover his mouth before he got reprimanded.

"Wow! It's Lady Yuna!" Came an enthusiastic squeak.

"Where? Where?"

They surrounded her, and came very close. For a moment they were silent, bowing to her before greeting her as politely as they could muster.

A small girl said to her in awe. "Lady Yuna, you're really pretty!"

Another said, with a worried expression, "You won't be going to Zanarkand right? I think dying is awful!"

She smiled at their small veined faces, with pointed ears. Although they looked different from Yevonite children, with eye and hair colour so much more intense, they still looked endearing and adorable. Already, their hands were as big as, or bigger than hers. "No, no, of course not. I will be staying with Lord Seymour."

All at once, they started chattering and introducing themselves. Soon, they calmed and slowed down, politely taking turns. Then they backed away from Yuna to give her space, sitting around her in the grass.

Yuna giggled with her hand over her mouth. "Really," She said in her soft tone of voice, "I shouldn't be here. It's class time now!"

An older youngling with grey hair, who earlier introduced himself as "Lars" said, "After nap time class is dismissed!"

"So..." Asked Yuna, "What did you learn today?"

"Respect." All said together.

A girl with green tufty hair named "Mirin" said, "Never insult anyone, and always be polite."

"Because all have feelings. If you're ever insulted," continued Lars, "take it with a pinch of salt."

Just then, the smallest and at the same time most rebellious of the class, "Bramble" who had dark blue hair shook his head. "I'll give the bully some black magic!"

"What else did you learn?" Inquired Yuna. She was just as interested in them, as they were in her.

"Fire!" All announced happily together, the wind blowing the grass and making their thick wild hair billow.

Sitting at the back, enjoying himself and watching the scene, Seymour sighed. He so much more enjoyed teaching younglings and children. Rather than older students, particularly those he did not have a long history with. From the back, he waved at Yuna, who smiled sweetly in return as he left.

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He went to the ice temple of Macalania to get work done, and meditate. He performed sendings for three dead people.

For most natural deaths, people would bring the deceased to the temples, where the high priest of the temple would be the one who performed the sending. Being the High Priest of Macalania temple, it was his duty, and often his pleasure to do so.

But it was not the case today. Twirling his stave, Seymour did his tasks listlessly, his spirit and conscience were unwell. His brow was furrowed, his hands constantly grasping and shifting on his weapon. Yuna... he could see her eyes. Deep, soulful, blue and green focused onto him.

He would usually enjoy the masses of pyre flies around him, their glowing sheen and ever-changing transparent rainbow colours. Their haunting cries, were songs to him. What would it be like to join their ranks, hovering in the air aimlessly...?

He let out a soft gasp, and leant forward suddenly with his hand over his vehemently beating heart. His weapon fell noiselessly into the glistening snow at his dark leather boots. His face, a picture of pain and suffering of a solitary type, due to an ember... mercilessly clawing out from the depths of his wretched soul. Leaving his summoner's stave behind, he left for the security of the chamber of the fayth.

In there the sound of his steps were hollow and heavy, the air felt more colder to him than usual. The singing of the fayth did nothing to calm the desperate emotion caged in his throbbing chest. Aware that he was all alone now, there he went onto his knees. His breathing unsteady, he grimaced at the emotional torture.

"Oh Yuna..." He hissed with both clawed hands over his tattooed chest. He threw his head back and screamed, releasing as much rage and love his body and flesh would allow.

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It was already late into the night when he had went back. He could smell her, she was sleeping deeply. In the darkness and silence, he shuffled his bare feet on the moss floor towards the bed where she lay. The pale light from outside revealed part of her face, and the soft skin of her bare back.

For an instant, he stayed there, at the bedside. And watched her sleep. His heart was pounding with ardour in his chest. His mind and control was hanging on edge, his mouth open as he breathed desperately through his teeth. He was not himself.

Everything about her, how peaceful she smelt... her body unmoving and still was driving him insane with temptation. He found himself helplessly gazing at her pink lips, he reached and stroked her back with his hand, when she stirred, he suddenly put his mouth onto hers.

She woke with a start, she did not calm down upon recognising him. Instead she hurt him further by struggling, and she ruthlessly rejected his fervent affection. In agony, his breathing quickened and his blood raced. He found himself on top of her, violently pulling at her night dress. When she began to scream, he muted her frightened voice by forcing his mouth onto hers into a coerced kiss.

Her struggling increased, he could smell her fear as her body writhed from his sensual touch, twisting underneath him. Seymour broke the kiss lying on top of her, making sure she would not get away with the weight of his body, and at the same time his hands were tightly around her shaking wrists.

"Seymour, please..." She gasped, Yuna's eyes were wide with fear and anxiety. She was searching his face for the reason of his brazen behaviour. He did not answer, but started to passionately pinch the skin of her neck with his lips. His breathing grew more and more ardent with her resisting him in his arms, he pulled her closer against his chest feeling her warmth, his arms wrapped around her small waist.

Again he put his mouth onto hers, running his tongue onto her lips, wanting to feel the inside of her mouth. With an urgent moan, he pushed her harder against the bed.

Her breathing was different now, unsteady and filled with a something she had never felt before, her body was responding to his, moving naturally against her will. "Please.. stop it... Seymour..." Sharply contradicting her own words, her eyes were closing and her lips parted allowing his tongue to enter as she returned his kisses. She could feel his hands rubbing her thighs, his claws just pressing erotically into her skin, and through their clothes she felt his hard object of desire pressing against her.

His robe came undone whilst they kissed, impatiently he pulled up her dress and entered her, and began to thrust into her with heavy vigour. He could feel her tense muscles around his erection, she was so tight! He ignored her screams of pain, and loud distressed cries begging him to stop...

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**End Of Chapter Nine**


	10. Ice and Steam

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X Fan-fic

CHAPTER TEN

--

Seymour awoke, stiff and quivering from the bitter cold. He gnashed his teeth and shook his head in relief. Oh! It felt so... thankfully none of that was real, that would be a monumentally stupid thing to do at this time. He could still feel her writhing in fear and pain under him, while he brazenly violated her. Not that he would ever attempt something like that. Ever. It was a terrible dream. To his dear Yuna, how dare he even dream something like that?

Lying on the frigid snow, he craned his neck upwards blinking. He scrabbled to his feet, the freezing wind buffeting him. Where was he...? It was too dark to see clearly. He closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to cast shell to protect himself from the biting wind and flying snow. Why, he could not! He breathed, his breath fogging in front of his blue face. He was out somewhere in the open, and drained of all his magic without his stave moreover.

Seymour strained his eyes in the blue-grey darkness, dotted with flecks of white. He could just make out the shapes and features of the landscape. At least he was not lost, he would very well be able to make his way back home from here. He made his way through, towards an ice path that was frequently used and well-worn.

After a few uneventful and predictable minutes of weakly hiking through the chilly blizzard, the Guado heard something from behind. Wearily he turned around to see what was it. Through the falling snowflakes, and as his clothes flapped in the howling wind, he saw a dark figure advancing towards him. It roared and raised its four arms, it was a yeti.

The Maester spread his feet, brought up his fists and prepared himself in a classic fighting stance. No magic, no stave. Just bare. Inwardly he swore, this silly predicament would not have happened if he had not lost control of his emotions earlier at the temple. Look at the inconvenience caused by another one of his episodes!

The muscly mindless creature made the first move, charging straight into him. He avoided it easily, by side-stepping to the right. It skidded in the sleet and snow, roaring, obviously infuriated it turned around. This time it stepped closer, more carefully and deliberately. It bared its yellow fangs as it swung Seymour a punch.

He blocked, but it was useless, the force was titanic and he was blown off his feet. Crashing heavily into the swirling snow, he gripped his now bleeding arm. He had cut himself on a sharp piece of ice when he fell. Quickly he stumbled onto his feet, and rammed into the furry beast with his shoulder.

It keeled over, flailing in the snow before flipping back onto its thick feet, all the while growling menacingly. Snow was stuck onto its wiry fur, where it had fallen. Not noticing at all, it charged viciously again.

Seymour dodged to the side, it was a very close shave. He had felt the fiend's fur whip his face as it ran past. It looked rabid, foam and drool was dripping off its mouth. He began to worry, while he watched the grey monster recover tirelessly. It was not likely that he would be able to keep up. He was already weary, and the cold was numbing him, going right through his clothes. He kept his composure, and sneered at the fiend.

"Give me your best!"

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It was already after dinner at the manor of Guadosalam. Yuna had finished dinner by herself at the lavish table in peace and quiet, wondering where was Seymour. She was supposed to talk to him. She smiled abit recalling what he looked like earlier today, napping with his students, out in the blustery field. The sight was so, she found it difficult finding the right words to describe what she saw and felt. It was just so unlikely.

There was the sound of quiet footsteps, and the tall door of the dining hall opened. A Guado manor keeper bowed to Yuna, raising her head she said, "Lady Yuna. Your husband has returned. He is now in the west wing, he would like your presence."

Yuna got up, looking forward to seeing him she made her way through the huge manor, now lit by candles and chandeliers in the night. The beautiful and exotic place took getting used to, with smooth curving branches lining the walls and ceilings, the way they grew resembling ornate lattice-work. The place carried the lovely and homely scent of perfumed wood.

Outside the west wing, another Guado guard in neat uniform stood respectfully at attention. He gestured his large hand with long fingers saying, "This way Lady Yuna." He stepped out of the way and let Yuna through the doorway.

Yuna gaped in alarm. "What happened to you?"

Surrounded by book shelves, sitting on an armchair near a marble tea table was her husband. His sleeve was rolled up, on his arm was a deep red cut that looked as though it had just recently stopped bleeding. On his exposed chest, he had a nasty dark bruise that was just starting to swell. Lighting came from the upper walls of the small room, where curious mushrooms blazed a white-coloured light.

At the back was Pescal, cleaning some steel medical tools. "Lady Yuna." He acknowledged, looking at her for a moment.

"Please sit Yuna." Said Seymour. "Forgive me for being late, I was..." His previously neutral expression changed, his brow furrowed. "Held up by a yeti."

Pescal laughed, trying to lighten the dour mood. "Sir, he really gave it to you with his fists didn't he?"

Not taking his eyes off Yuna as she sat opposite him, Seymour replied cordially. "Actually it was its breath that nearly defeated me."

Everyone in the room laughed. Pescal briefly collected his medic's equipment, and bowed his purple-haired head before leaving his collected master and graceful mistress to their privacy.

Yuna moved her chair closer to his, and began with her white magic. Gently she put her petite hands onto his injured arm. She watched the breach in his flesh gradually close, and asked, "What happened before the yeti?"

He opened his eyes after feeling relief from the wound, and from enjoying her touch. At that question he casually raised an eyebrow. But inside, he was startled by her sharpness. Before he could say anything, she reasoned gently.

"Because, firstly you couldn't been held up by one for that long, and secondly, I don't think you would go without your stave. What happened?" She still kept her hands on his arm and squeezed it slightly, showing her genuine concern.

"I had another one of my emotional episodes. It rarely happens... until of late. When I become very stressed, emotionally stressed specifically. When I lose all control and have no recollection or memories of my actions after I come to. I!" He could no longer look at her, and was fearful of telling her all this, she would probably shun him. Thoughts of her screaming for him to stop bombarded his mind. The image of her wide tear-filled eyes was etched into his memory, as in the dream he came into her. Completely ignoring her straining hands on him, trying to force him away-

"Seymour. It's all right." She said slowly, noticing the uncharacteristic panic in his azure eyes. "What do you think of me, that I am ignorant of the troubles of people other than Sin?" Yuna clasped his hand, stroking the back of it with her thumb.

He leant forward, breathing through his mouth. Her familiar scent calmed him, unashamed with his eyes shut he savoured it. He forced himself to look at her. "Do you not fear me still?"

She watched him steadily, "I'm not scared of you Seymour. Not anymore. I realised it's your opinions I'm scared of." She pressed her palm onto the injury on his chest, and healed him. "Better now?"

He nodded, the amount of emotional relief, so much more than physical was the most he had ever felt in while. He swallowed, and continued. "The worst I have ever done was kill my f-father. My temper... I do not like the possibilities of what I am capable of in such a state. Killing should be painless."

Yuna decided that this was not the time to voice what she thought, she continued to tenderly listen to him with her summoner's compassion.

"Yuna, you do trust me that I will not break my promise to you?"

"Yes." Was the certain reply.

"I am happy that you do. I just remembered, this afternoon at the grass field..." He frowned and dipped his head. "Do I appear cruel to you because I desire to kill?"

She gave him an affirmative look.

Seymour held onto her small hand, and got up from the wide chair verbalising, "I shan't persuade you to see what I do. This conversation ends here."

While they were walking to the bedroom, Yuna asked, "How did you survive the yeti?"

"I had to call my aeon." He answered emotionlessly. Holding her gently by the arm, he led her into the private chamber. He shrugged off his robe and put it onto the wooden dressing table. Without shame he stripped himself of the rest of his clothing.

"Seymour, what are you doing?!" Asked Yuna, looking away. Embarrassed.

He answered, his soft voice huskier than usual. "I am going to bathe myself now." Folding his damp clothes soaked from the snow, he teased. "Would you join me?" To his surprise and mild horror, (although she was blushing furiously) she undressed before him. His heart beat faster nervously. Pretending not to be shocked, he asked keeping his tone as smooth and as natural as possible, "Stream or manor's bath house?"

"I'd like hot water." She said, fetching two fluffy green towels from the cabinet. She threw him one, and promptly wrapped herself with the other.

The Maester led the way, with his wife following behind him. Since the court of Yevon, she had not seen his back. It was intricately scarred. Yuna felt a pang of guilt seeing that, but it had to be done. It was worst on his back, but even part of his buttocks and thighs were finely scarred from his primitive and brutal corporeal punishment.

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The bath house was actually in the basement of the manor, with a narrow private staircase leading down to it from Seymour's chambers.

It was medium-sized, able to accommodate ten people if there was an occasion for it. The roughly oval pool was made of smooth, polished black rock, and white marble in other areas. The sweeping shapes of the marble and rock were mostly natural, just sanded and cut strategically so that large pieces of them would fit together into a pleasing whole. Cosy orange light came from lamps and brackets on the rough walls.

As hot steaming water began filling the moderately deep pool, he took her small hand and said, "Watch your step." They stepped in carefully, lest they slip and fall. "You're beautiful you know?" He adored her openly, and suddenly he guiltily glanced away ashamed.

Gingerly they sat down into the almost scalding hot water, Yuna gripped his hand tighter at the pain and said quietly, "You are too."

He chanced another shy glance at her, "Have you been in a hot spring before?"

Yuna had her eyes closed as she rubbed her skin. "There is one in Besaid. This feels like long ago when I was a little kid, we ever went there and played in the water naked. When we were too young to feel embarrassment." She sighed smiling. "Talking about kids, I didn't know you like teaching them! It looks so unlike you."

He submerged his head under the water, and came up running his fingers through his thick hair. "And why is that my Lady?"

"You seem so serious Seymour, you don't look like the type who likes children." Yuna looked at him, one side of her mouth curved in a smirk.

"I like very young children much more than most adults."

Yuna blinked in the steam, and asked while she washed her soft hair. "Why's that?"

"Many reasons. Probably many of my reasons are the same as yours. I can tell that you are delighted by them as well." He relaxed in the water, listening to her tranquil soprano voice. She looked so radiant this way.

"Their playfulness, innocence and honesty." Stated Yuna, her skin rosy from the heat of the water. She could not help but feel that there was something wrong with him. In the orange light he looked... It could be because he was just tired.

"It is their non-judgemental nature that most pleases me." Admitted Seymour sighing.

"From your childhood?" Asked Yuna, coming closer to him while she washed her face.

"Yes. Although I was different, no one at school cared." He gazed at her while he took a trip down memory lane. "No one cared that my ears were not sharp, or that my face lacked veins at the time. For we Guado, the more veins one has the more attractive one is. Needless to say I was considered ugly. No one my age avoided me or remarked on my appearance. Unlike, the 'grown-ups."

"Children only know the core of things don't they?" Yuna thought aloud.

"Mm. It was all a world of play, so different from the one at home. After school." He sighed. "Being around very young children have ever since put this wonderful feeling of peace about me."

"How long have you been teaching?"

He shifted in the water to draw closer to her, and careful not to scratch her with his claws he pushed the wet brunette hair out of her face. He did not answer her question.

"You look guilty Seymour, what's wrong?"

The half-Guado remained silent, his eyes focused downwards onto the ripples of the steaming bath water. He was lost in thought.

Her voice and her gentle hands on his shoulders made him come back into reality. "Seymour, tell me. You're my friend..." Then she looped her arms around his neck and hugged him comfortingly. It was so difficult to think with her so close!

Under the water, he clenched his fists. He smelt what she felt, that embrace was purely platonic. But her affection was genuine. She was too close, with her creamy bare skin against his. He whispered yearningly, "You are torturing me."

"What's wrong?" She released him and sat back. Her blue and green eyes locked onto his face. Although his face was often of a fixed confident expression, she had begun to notice and see subtle changes in it now and then. It was possible to read the changes, as the days would go by, Yuna knew and she would be able to recognise such tells more readily. Like how at first glance Guado all looked the same, but after a while, differences could be seen.

Wishing that she had not let go of his shoulders, he spoke. "I have not been myself lately. I know that you see me as your friend, and nothing more... I dreamt that I had sexually assaulted you."

Yuna was slightly taken aback at how direct he was, "Don't be guilty for something that you didn't do." She whispered.

"I cannot help but. I am sorry." He replied, getting up and waded to get his towel. He did not want to discuss his dream further. "I think we have been here long enough. Are you finished?"

"Yes."

"Let us depart then." He turned a shiny brass valve, and drained the water of the grey rock pool.

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In the dark bed chamber, they laid themselves down onto the huge soft bed. The last words he heard from her was, "Good night."

He replied the same in the gloom, confused his thoughts all in a disorganised whirl. He relaxed his tired body, hers a few feet away from his. Bravely he exploited his Guado's senses, slowly he inhaled. She smelt a little like the sea, meaning she was calm. Past that... the poisonous smell of fear was altogether absent. Distrust was not there anymore, but the doubtful aroma of suspicion still lingered mildly. She trusted him, but was still suspicious of him... what did that mean?

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In the wee hours of the morning, Yuna sat by the running stream at the back of the manor. She sneaked out from the heavy sheets and covers of the bed as quietly as possible, so as not to disturb her sleeping husband.

Dipping one of her hands into the cold water, she thought about the half-Guado. He was fine really, but she found it very disturbing that he was so oriented towards dying or perishing, utterly drawn to it like how iron was to a magnet. She felt a chill down her spine at the very thought, how strange and contradicting at the same time he was such a warm, and humorous person.

She shook her head slowly listening to the sounds of the water, marvelling how quickly could things change in a week and a half. Before she was actually somewhat like him, wanting to die. Yuna looked up at her surroundings, the gracefully swaying branches in the breeze, the falling leaves... She clearly was someone who loved life and Spira, how did she make up her mind and courage to want to die for it?

But he was different - he wanted _everybody_ dead. How could being dead compare to how wonderful it felt to be alive? To breath in the fresh air, feel the wind and pattering rain... taste the food one loves. Just being able to feel. Everybody dead... was this a twisted type of love that he had for Spira? It seemed very much that way.

If only there was a way to show him, that although there is suffering and pain in life, there is also meaningful beauty and wonder. A delicate balance, like a pair of scales... (Of course it would all be more balanced without Sin, but that was beside the point for now.) She found that she cared for his welfare, he was her friend. There was no way that she could leave him like this, with such depressing, unhealthy thoughts, ambitions and beliefs.

If she could not persuade him, then she could at least show him what she felt. The only thing was _how._

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**End Of Chapter Ten**


	11. Spawn For Life

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X Fan-fic

CHAPTER ELEVEN

--

"Let's take the day off tomorrow, we can spend the whole non-working day together. I want to show you something." Yuna had said to him mischievously in the morning, her soft feminine voice as gentle as ever. Her new clothing suited her well, of late she had taken to covering her shoulders a little more because of the cooler climate here compared to Besaid's tropical one. Her choice of colour still remained the same, white with pale and yet bright pastel colours.

He had replied, "Yes. I will also want to talk to you about something important. Regarding what you will be doing in the long-term."

While Seymour recalled their conversation, today's class was at a clearing in the forest of Guadosalam. Here, the trees grew to a scale that was disproportionally large. Giants among their kind, the trees had such a girth that the curve of the brown trunks could not be told from nearby, trunks looked like flat walls for the largest trees, and for smaller ones trunks looked like the bottoms of ships. Curvaceous roots were as thick as logs, and they grew in such density that even riding nimble chocobos would not be easy in this area.

As for how tall, words can barely describe how high these trees went. Light was tinged with green from the leaves. The view straight up was spectacular and enchanting. The play of light through the emerald and topaz leaves looked as though the canopy was of a mosaic of stained glass, and not just a single layer but of numerous. The music of nature could be heard, if a wind strong enough could penetrate the forest causing the leaves to sing, and branches to whistle.

It was only in this clearing that the white sky could be seen. Multi-tasking, Lord Seymour sat on a branch, attentively watching his little students engage in their play and sparky antics. Happily they clawed up and down, shouting and playing a game of catch. He had warned them to keep within the lower areas of the trees. That he "shall not be responsible for any broken bones."

So far all were within borders, but he knew some were bound to get carried away. He sighed and observed, and he was right. At least fifty feet up was a youngling with dark blue hair, dancing dangerously on a thin tree limb. Bramble, why did it always have to be Bramble? If it was not, then it would be his equally rebellious, red-haired friend Heshmal.

"Bramble! Do not go any higher, or I will come and get you." Seymour called, sitting up.

The unruly child jumped down onto a branch just below his former perch and shouted, "Teacher come play!"

Seymour made no answer to that suggestion, but kept his stern demeanour.

Begged Bramble, "Please! Come and play with me!" He pouted, fidgeting on his spot. Without warning he turned, and scurried like a squirrel up higher into the deep green foliage. Fluttering leaves were falling in his wake.

The half-Guado stood up. Bramble was too far away from him to smell if or not he was bluffing or serious. Resigned and faced with no choice, he checked the sharpness of his aquamarine claws, scratching the peeling bark of the branch. Satisfied of the result, he went after the child.

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"Bramble! Stop it this instant!" Reprimanded Seymour, clinging to the trunk of a tree, looking up. They were a fair distance away from the clearing where his class was playing. Bramble was recklessly hanging ten or so feet above Seymour, with one arm on a flexible branch. As he hazardously bobbed up and down, he guffawed and waved with his other free hand.

"Maester Seymour! Maester Seymour!" He called, "Look what I can do!" The youngling shifted his momentum, and used the flexibility of the branch, letting go at the right moment to propel himself like a rocket higher upwards, shooting up in a cloud of loose leaves.

Seymour cursed under his breath, realising that the child was once again out of his sight - and reach. He was somewhere above, hidden by the waxy leaves. He jumped onto the tree he suspected that Bramble was on, and clawed impatiently upwards. He thought to himself that he should indulge in this game of catch more, his climbing skills were bound to improve. It was then, when all of a sudden he heard a voice calling from the clearing for him.

Lord Seymour stopped climbing, to listen better. He frowned when he noticed it was not a child's voice, but of a grown man's. He could not hear what he was screaming about, but it sounded urgent and important. Firmly he said to Bramble, knowing well that he surely could hear what he said, wherever he was hiding. "Bramble. There may be trouble, we will return to the class now."

More fluttering leaves fell, as Bramble showed himself to his teacher. His eyes were wide and attentive as he said, "Okay."

Swiftly, they went back. At the clearing they halted. None of the children were playing anymore, instead they timidly stood around together holding hands. They could clearly smell the magnitude of the situation. Some of the younger ones were shivering at the smell of the informant who came looking for Seymour.

"Sir!" The informant was a yellow-haired guard with a worried expression, wearing the standard gold-lined uniform bowed. "You are needed at Moonflow, Sin spawn." There was no need to elaborate further, only an idiot would need further prompting.

"Take these younglings home." Ordered Seymour.

"Yes my Lord."

He dashed through the dense forest. At the entrance of his manor, Tromell handed Seymour his summoner's stave and informed him that Pescal and a body guard had already escorted Yuna to Moonflow. Again he bowed and told his master that the Guado fiend masters and tamers were already there, fighting off the spawn that swam in from the sea.

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It looked no different from any other attack from the dreaded Sin spawn. Screaming people needlessly yelling the obvious presence of spawn, people being eaten or maimed by spawn, and if it were later in the event, people dying in agony from spawn. The only difference there was, was perhaps these were mostly foreign Yevonites, tourists on holiday with photo-sphere cameras.

At one side of the river bank, a gigantic shoopuf stomped on some squealing sin spawn, its Hypello handler safely on its pale blue back. The army of Guadosalam was keeping its edge, allowing the people to run past them, and to their safety. The air was thick and heavy with black magic. Here and there were ice encrusted on the ground, if not smoking embers, or black burn marks. Pescal, one of the many Guado medics ran about, supplying ethers and hi-potions to those who needed them.

Seymour his face ever serious, ran to the shore. The place was no longer scenic, the moonlilies trampled and ruined, the water all muddy from the violent spawn that had churned up the earth from the bottom of the lake. Further out, the revolting Sin spawn swam, crawled or leapt onto the banks.

These were aquatic, with fins and long bony tails. They had grey, stream-lined slimy bodies, while others had bodies that were flat and floppy like rays. And like all Sin spawn, they were grotesque and monstrous.

Then there were appalling Sin scales, swarming onto the muddy earth. The lights on their bodies flickering, as if signifying they were going to blow up at any moment. Two Guado guardians dragged away a bold tourist who was just standing there, madly clicking away with his camera.

"Lady Yuna! We'd best retreat!" Cried a fiend handler, his two fighting chimeras flanking his sides, securing the area for Yuna. "More and more spawn means that Sin is nearby!"

"Are you sure?" She asked, directing her aeons in the battle. Bahamut was half in the filthy water. Shreds of water plants were sticking onto his blue armoured body, while he swept his long powerful tail, splendidly knocking away hissing spawn.

When a Sin scale came too close to Yuna, the well-trained Guado fiend handler's chimeras would quickly dispose of the monstrosity. Presently, one was crushed under a chimera's hoof, with a squelch.

The fiend handler pointed, "Look Lady Yuna. In the distance!"

Yuna put her hand over her eyes, it was difficult to see because an orange bomb had self-destructed nearby, blowing up a particularly large Sin spawn ray. As her body guard had said, through the smoke and vapour there on the horizon, floating very close to the surface of the whipping waves of the sea was Sin.

That gargantuan form was unmistakable. Even from such a distance, little black specks could be seen falling from Sin's body like stones into the salt water. Those little black specks, needless to say were more spawn.

"Lord Seymour orders to save our bombs for later, only in dire need use them!" Ordered a superior far behind. "For now, do not retreat yet, but stand your ground!"

Yuna, her escort and others within hearing-range nodded. Some passed the order, as they continued to defend the shore crawling with their common enemy.

Further away Maester Seymour jerked his arm, and multi-casted demi. By now he was conserving his magic, so that he would be able to last in this battle that tested his endurance and stamina. Already he had hit overdrive four times, and counting. He whipped around, and forced his stave into the body of an unwitting scale, its hard outer skin cracking as he pulled his steel stave out. He kicked its broken body out of the way.

He thought to himself that this was risky. He hoped that Sin would not come any closer, if it did alot more people would be hurt. Sin had a habit of killing only half of families, effectively separating them. Killing parents but not children, as if it did such things on purpose. As if it was trying to cause as much pain as possible.

Obviously it was, because there was its infernal toxin, that scrambled people's minds and memories. In most cases the condition was only temporary, but in the worst, permanent. It was so much like a reflection of Yu Yevon's turbulent mental condition. If Sin just wanted to kill, why could it not just do a quick and clean job of it, and then move on the next city, leaving no survivors? No, too much to ask for from an insane unsent within Sin.

He flicked his wrist and cast thundara, after the white streak flashed, he finished the singed creature with a swipe using his stave. It was quickly becoming blunt. Strike after strike, it became more and more difficult to pull it out of the flesh or exoskeleton it was embedded in.

Yuna twirled her staff and directed Valefor to fly over the water, attacking the advancing Sin rays before they reached the muddy shore.

A gruff and very loud voice sounded from behind her and her escort. "Summoner Yuna! Yenke and Biran are here to help."

"Where little Kimahri?" Growled one of the two Ronso.

Yuna looked up at the two. One had a yellow mane, the other black. The Ronso with the black mane spoke, "Biran and Yenke here by coincident. We help little Kimahri protect summoner."

"Why little Kimahri not here?" The Ronso with the yellow mane turned out to be 'Biran.' He roared, ran and did a hard flying-kick into a lumbering slimy spawn, bowling it over.

"Kimahri is with the rest at home in Besaid. " Replied Yuna, waving to her startled Guado escort that these two strangers were friends. "Is there something you want to tell him?" She asked.

"Biran will tell summoner Yuna after battle." Grunted the Ronso, as his brother bulldozed a path through the menacing Sin scales for them.

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An hour later, there still was no slowing down or letting up. The disgusting spawn was still coming in. In the distance over the sea Sin still loomed, no one could tell if it was going to stay, move on, or come closer. The battle raged on.

Seymour had no more magic left within himself. His face was splattered with mud, and fragments of spawn blood and hide. He was aching all over from the exertion. Inwardly dreading it, but not showing it at all on his cool and collected composure, he summoned his chilling aeon.

He knew, he could smell it. The sharp and piercing cries of Anima, like steel plates being torn apart frightened and distracted his Guado in battle. The light dimmed, and the screech of blood-stained iron chains sounded. Pulses came from its skeletal and scaled body, which swiftly annihilated the creatures from Sin's body. Their bodies would writhe and throb visibly, before bursting, or simply falling down dead.

His mind was swaying, he was struggling to control his aeon. He felt as though he was going to go unconscious any time soon, he watched, the monsters from Sin being tortured by his pain. When he could not carry on any longer, he closed his eyes again and dismissed Anima.

"My Lord!" Came a shout a dozen feet away. A guado guardian with brown hair threw him two ethers and a X-potion. He felt his body absorb the ether, and he screamed a brief expression of thanks before he moved to the front line again, refusing to show any form of weakness. However, he still moved slightly sluggishly because of fatigue.

He waited until he was almost surrounded, before he cast flare and toasted the scales and rays. Damn it felt good fighting in the front line and beyond it!

"Sin is moving on!" Shouted an excited fiend master. "Sin is moving on! The spawn should stop coming soon! Everyone, stand tall and keep fighting!"

The former tourist hot-spot called "Moonflow" resounded with invigorated cheers and war cries, and the army fought with renewed morale. Lost strength came back, and they fought on. Exterminating any remaining advancing Sin spawn left.

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"Biran and Yenke come to warn little Kimahri. Summoners is going missing." Said Yenke, helping himself to some cold fruit dessert.

Yuna stood talking to Biran and Yenke in the crowded banquet halls of the manor. It was in the early evening, and Tromell had insisted that they have a small celebration over the victory at Moonflow. For the heroes and such. He insisted because amazingly, there were no casualties, because they had acted quickly to defend the tourists.

She frowned and asked, "What do you mean by missing?"

"Summoner Yuna not know?" Demanded Biran with his head tilted to the side, sniffing at his food, holding the porcelain plate to within a foot of his muzzle, his pink nose twitching.

"How long has this been going on?" Yuna inquired, concerned and worried.

"Many days and nights." Said Yenke. "Will be shame if little Kimahri lose summoner."

Biran roared with laughter, slapping his thick navy-blue thigh. "First lose horn, now lose summoner!"

Tromell stepped up with a large silver platter laden with savoury fish and shrimp, a pleasant smile on his aged wrinkled face. "I trust misters Biran and Yenke are enjoying the celebration?"

"Yenke like the food very much." The dark-haired Ronso complemented, taking the entire shiny tray (to Tromell's surprise and amusement) and began to sample the seafood.

"Thank you for being gracious host." Said Biran, touching his horn in respect.

"Lord Seymour would like the best for his guests." Bowed Tromell before leaving amidst the lights and chatter of the hall.

Yuna was not surprised, she smiled at that. Having a Ronso as a guardian, friend and family member for so long she knew first hand how much Ronso could eat. If they were really hungry, to the unfamiliar or uninitiated it was a real horror show.

"Us want summoner Yuna be careful. Should let husband know." Said Yenke, finishing his bowl of dessert, and lumbering over to the long banquet table again, politely waiting behind the Guado in front of him to use the service spoon.

At the mention of Seymour, Yuna wondered where was he. The last she saw of him was after the tiring battle, comparatively dirtier than she was. His clothes had mud, and fragments of stinking Sin spawn all over. Even his face was blood-stained.

She remembered him looking at himself, and then at her. Joking that he should allow some escorts near him the next time there was a spawn attack. He had bowed regally to her, and said he would see her later in the evening. As he needed to assess the number of war fiends lost, and as per normal had to report this in a letter to Bevelle.

Biran's horribly harsh and rough voice caught Yuna's attention again. "Tell Kimahri for Biran that Kimahri must be strong, not weak." He shook his great head disapprovingly.

"My thanks to you and your friend for protecting my lovely wife." Came a very familiar, gentle and level voice.

A smile broke on Yuna's face as she greeted him. "Seymour!"

He was decked once again in clean clothing, before he held her hand, he looked at her, as if asking for permission to do so publicly.

She smiled, and clasped his. "How was the office?" She asked, "This is Biran and Yenke."

"Greetings Maester." Biran and Yenke said together, touching their horns.

Yenke turned to Biran and said something in another language, then said to Yuna. "Yenke reminds summoner Yuna to tell husband of matter." The two brawny Ronso stepped back before leaving to gorge themselves further at the table.

Seymour squeezed Yuna's small hand in his large one mildly. "What was all that about?"

"They told me that summoners have been going missing suddenly for the past few weeks." Explained Yuna. She saw something stir in his blue eyes, and felt his hand close over hers. As if protecting her, he wordlessly pulled her by her hand closer to him. Yuna understood what he meant by his actions, he would let no such thing befall her.

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"What is it that you want to show me today?"

Yuna stood with her small hands together, her head to one side. "You'll see." She said smiling sweetly.

At the corner of the Maester's mouth was a smirk. "Show me after we go to my office to confirm something."

"Okay!"

At his office, a busy clerk reported to Seymour that it was indeed confirmed that in three day's time he would have to report to Bevelle for a session at the court of Yevon.

Yuna and Seymour exchanged glances. When they had left the mostly wooden interior of the boring place filled with desks and what not, Seymour leant to Yuna and confessed, "I am tempted to be irresponsible and not go."

"Seymour!" Yuna said, with a pretend cross look etched on her features, while she strolled with him.

"Because there won't really be a meeting at all." Said Seymour thoughtfully, "Not that I disagree with him, but Maester Mika will go on and on about the spiral of death, how we are all _dying_ because of it, how we are all _dying_ for the people of Spira, how we are _dying_ to protect Spira from Sin, how the summoners are _dying_ to defeat Sin..."

Yuna was almost bent double laughing with her hand over her mouth.

Seymour however, looked unaffected as he continued voicing his opinions in his level tenor voice nonchalantly, "...and then, when you come back from the toilet twenty minutes later - people are _still dying."_

"Seymour! That's not very nice!" She laughed, her face pink from laughing so much. Playfully she nudged him. She was already used to his calm and emotionless facade, but underneath it he possessed a warm and funny personality.

"So." He took her pale arm in his, "What do you want to show me today?"

"Come with me to the field, and I'll show you."

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**End Of Chapter Eleven**


	12. The Light

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X fan-fic

CHAPTER TWELVE

--

Yuna had decided that Seymour was all right. He was a nice person, but she did not love, or like him the way he did for her. She saw him as only a friend unfortunately, although she did find him handsome. It was undeniable that his image was not what she expected when she first saw him at Luca, stepping off the ship at dock three.

Now, they were sitting with their backs against one of the many boulders in the grassy field. Today it was delightfully windy, without much sun.

Yuna was saying, "What I want to show you is not a thing or place that can be seen. It's... more like to feel and understand."

"Hint it to me?" He asked in a relaxed state.

"Don't you feel it?" She whispered, "It's all around..." She glanced at him. His brow was low, and he had his eyes closed. It reminded her abit of Wakka, when he was confused and contemplating hard about something complicated.

Seymour looked at her, bewildered. He narrowed his eyes and managed to smell her mood. It was calm, at the same time confident. Benevolent and gently secure, filled with contentment and an as had she said 'understanding' that he could not comprehend. "Yuna, what is it you feel?"

She had a pleasant expression on her face, and she sighed nostalgically her eyes trained on something far away. "Seymour it's all around. Don't think, feel."

He took a deep breath, and allowed his mind to slack. There was the sensation of the wind blowing, the thin blades of grass brushing against him. Of movement, things happening but not seen. Suddenly he realised what a miracle it was that he could see, the colours of all shades and tones, forms, shapes, depth and distance of everything. How beautiful it all was, the bright sky and cool earth. That he could hear the sounds, music, voices... feel the hard and rough rock he was leaning on... nothing was still. The rock although different, was just like the shuddering grass... it all went on infinitely.

She whispered to him, "We're alive so much everyday. Like all people, things that are given to us, no matter how wonderful are not always appreciated, or seen as the amazing and priceless things that they are. It includes the miracle of having senses and being alive."

Seymour opened his eyes and turned his face to face hers. He was thinking, and still taking in this new philosophy. He had been pessimistic and suffering for so long... this was all very new and alien to his closed world. Was it all his fault, that he had been suffering? Of course it was.

Without warning, Yuna jumped up and laughed. While Seymour was still stunned by her sudden action, she took off running across the field.

"Yuna! Where are you going!" He called watching her form get smaller and smaller in the distance. Ungracefully, he pushed himself onto his feet and sped after her. He was certain, as he ran through the dry grass that she had heard him, but she did not answer. She continued running in no particular direction, the wind blowing making her soft brown hair fly.

He marvelled at how fast she could run, she stopped at the edge of the brook. Catching her breath, still with glee written all over her girlish face. He jogged up to where she was, slightly annoyed. "That was sudden."

Yuna said something incoherent, shook her head and ran from him again. "You're so serious Seymour! Don't you have any fun?" Before he knew what she was doing, she cast haste on herself and dashed away in a blur.

"You cheat!" He screamed in mock anger. She obviously knew that he did not know any time magic, the only thing he knew that might make him marginally faster was 'berserk' and impulsively without much thinking, he cast the status ailment on himself.

His heart rate increased, drumming in his chest and head, his vision became red-tinted. He felt as though he could keep on running forever, without rest. He went after her, she was startled at his appearance for a moment, he knew because for a split second he saw her exotic eyes widen in surprise. Then with a playful grin spreading on her charming face, she commenced running.

The air blowing past her was rejuvenating. While she ran, she turned again to look at him. Berserk, with that glaring red glow around him, his skin looking as though it was burning or on fire. He looked good.

She was reaching the edge of the field, and after it was thick wooded forest. Not wanting him to catch her, she zipped in. The effects of her time magic was wearing off, and she was slowing down. She could tell because when she moved, her surroundings were more in focus and clearer.

Was this the forest of Guadosalam? The play of light through space and gaps, glistening on the green leaves and beige stones on the forest floor. Through the breeze, everything made their presence known by rustling in it. The peace and tranquility was broken when Seymour, from behind with a crash unceremoniously pounced onto her.

Yuna yelped, startled when she felt his strong arms close firmly around her, and then they fell onto their sides into the soft and crunchy leaf litter. She felt his warm breath on the back of her neck, and he whispered smugly, "Do not ever run from me again."

She laughed, blushing deeply she tried to swat him away. He was smiling and top of her, still red from the effects of berserk, he held onto her as she giggled not letting go. Suddenly, she felt his lips lightly touch the back of her neck.

"I'm sorry." Seymour gasped, releasing her before she had time to react from his abrupt act of affection. "I was being impulsive because of my berserk status."

"It's okay." Yuna's heart was hammering as they sat together in the dry brown leaves for a moment, and then she asked. "Do you still want the whole of Spira dead? Do you still feel that there is nothing for people but pain and suffering?"

He became more serious again, looking up at the glistening tree canopy. "I do not know what to think. But you are right in some sense, it is beautiful is it not?"

"Life is." She answered. "Seymour?"

"Yes my lady?"

She sat closer to him and tenderly held his hand. "Tell me if you feel that you're about to have another one of those blackouts again okay? You're my friend, I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

For a moment his eyes widened in surprise, "I will... thank you for caring for me Yuna. I am touched that you do." He helped her up, and with his hand swept leaves off her purple dress. "I need to think." He told her slowly. "I have seen what you have shown me today. Now, come with me to Macalania temple. You will like what I have in store for you."

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In the ice and snow of the blue area around the holy temple, a small choir of young Guado clad in thick clothes stood in line and sang. Theirs breaths condensing on the air.

"What do you think? I recall that you wanted to be a teacher, you said, before you became a summoner. Would you like to teach them?"

"Really?" Asked Yuna, delighted.

Seymour continued looking at his charges, and did not answer but nodded solemnly once.

"This is wonderful, thank you Seymour!" She chirped, holding his long-sleeved arm.

"We can't have you doing nothing all the time, I am happy that this job pleases you." Also he thought in his mind, that Priest Wenex the-stiff can be stationed to do something else. He raised his wide hand to the choir, making them pause in their singing. "Priest Wenex will not be tutoring you anymore. From henceforth, my wife will be."

The young teenage Guado politely hid their glee that the unhappy Priest Wenex would no longer be teaching them, and bowed to Yuna. "Ma' am." They all said at once.

Yuna could feel her hair standing on end at being called that. It just did not sound right at all! "Guys!" She said incredulously, "Just call me Yuna. That sounds so weird! I feel all old now!"

They looked uncertainly at their regal Maester, and he said, "Speak freely to her, she is your teacher now."

A girl from the back with thick green hair spoke up, "Lady Yuna, we must. Because our Lord thinks it is impudent otherwise."

A tall and thin boy with purple hair, much like Pescal's asked, "Could we call you teacher instead?"

Yuna smiled at their curious and expectant faces in the cold cheerfully. "Teacher it is!"

Together, they bowed to her once more.

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The wind swept through the murky blue rolling waves, before sending them to break onto the granite rocks on the rocky shore, in a flurry of white foam. Auron stood at the edge of an over-hanging piece, peering through his dark shades. The sun was shining hot and bright from above, the light it emitted shimmering on the water. Through the roaring of crashing waves he shouted.

"I'm trying! If you would but wait, you and your impatience Jecht!"

A grey mass hiding in the ivory clouds responded, stirring its vapourous surroundings. Flinching, it let out a cry that shook the ground.

Auron stumbled and screamed, "If you've waited ten years, then you can stand to wait a while longer!" He sighed and turned bitterly away. He could still painfully remember Jecht, saying before he died, shrugging when he did as if it were nothing more than a trivial matter, "I have a plan."

He looked up again at the monster he had transformed into. The hate and anger he felt when his two best friends had died for jack nothing welled up inside him. He felt as though it was burning into the skin of his craggy face. Watching his friends die, and when he saw that Sin returned, he felt cheated and betrayed.

That was when he confronted Yunaleska, and he got himself killed. He raised his head, and looked into the sky and swirling clouds. He remembered crawling away from there, and being found by that young Ronso called Kimahri. Then there was Rin... then he died from his injuries. Dying was not so awful, he first remembered it as a wave of relief from his lethal injuries. No more pain. He came out from dreaming.

Now Braska was dead, and now Jecht had become Sin. As an unsent, at least he was not alone. Only after he died could he communicate with Yu Yevon's invincible armour known as Sin. At first he felt a type of company, at least Jecht was still here in this world in some form. But the relief was not guiltless, it was a strange and uncomfortable type.

Some form? He was the bane and source of death in all of Spira. The greatest murderer of all time, and one that was not even aware of when, why or how he killed. A killer with literally no conscience. Almost mindless!

"Soon." He said, before turning away and walking down the worn path, away from the lonely shore. "Just don't do anything stupid like yesterday, searching the beaches for the summoner and Tidus."

As he walked, he heard a tremulous groan from the heavens. In Auron's imagination it almost sounded apologetic.

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"Good shot kid!" Waved Wakka from the shore of the white sandy beach in Besaid.

Tidus was swimming in the crystal clear water. He had kicked the blitzball all the way back, and had scored a goal that Keepa the goalie missed.

Wakka held the bumpy blitzball in his hands, marvelling. It was dry, the mark of a good blitzer, because it had moved so fast through the air, the water had drained clean off it. He liked the kid "from Zanarkand." His team was improving, and many were inspired by him to do better. Funny, Sin's toxin should have worn off by now... the kid still did not get his memories back.

"Yo Wakka!" Yelled Tidus, paddling in the shining blue water far off. "Kick it here!"

"Yeah! C'mon Cap'n! Come on in and join us!" Shouted Botta, the worst player of the team (but had improved considerably after taking lots of advice from Tidus) surfaced from under the inviting water.

"Watch out ya?" With a whoosh, Wakka kicked the spinning ball back to them and dived in laughing.

The Besaid Aurochs had been in the sun and surf since morning. Such was the lifestyle of the professional blitzer. Feeling the sun on their backs, soaking in the salt water. Doing physical conditioning, getting tired-out, and when the day was over going to take a shower to wash the salt off their bodies before going to sleep.

It was a lifestyle that suited Wakka, but not Lulu. Lately she was crankier than usual about not having something to do. She told Wakka that perhaps she might sign up as somebody else's guardian after awhile. Wakka responded as he usually did, shrugging and letting her do whatever she wanted. (He knew arguing with Lulu was about as safe as kicking a sleeping tonberry.)

Well, at least Lulu was able to joke about something. She insisted that it would be relief for her to get away from Tidus's constant begging of wanting to visit Yuna. The teen was still convinced that she was under some kind of "evil spell" cast by the Maester.

Wakka laughed and fondly called Tidus a clown. "Clown" had become a nickname for the energetic blond, who was very outspoken and sometimes overly frank in his speech. He was a bright spark, and his cheerfulness was contagious.

One other thing Lulu did not like was that Tidus very much resembled Chappu. She was able to recover from his tragic death, but not Wakka and she felt that it was unhealthy Wakka was fooling himself emotionally with Tidus.

While watching them play blitzball with the Aurochs, she could see an old glint in his eyes when he laughed with Tidus. That familiar glint told her he saw Tidus as Chappu.

When Chappu had died, she remembered how Wakka reacted. He could not, and would accept the death of his brother. He was in shock, and stubborn... no. Determined denial. She sighed while listening to the sound of the waves, just maybe this was Wakka's way of recovering from the loss.

Like what the elders say, "We all are different, and we each have our ways and paths to tread."

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In the cool late evening, Tidus got a chance to complain to someone else about his suspicions. It was Auron, who as usual, had a habit of appearing without warning, and as if from out of thin air. It was outside the tent, just before bedtime.

"So. How have you been adapting to this world?"

Tidus screamed and jumped, nearly falling flat into the ground during the process. "Auron! Where did you come from?!"

Auron casually stared at the lights glowing from the closed canvas tents, and replied "That is none of your business."

"Show's you're all right. The day you tell me everything, is the day you've gone nuts." Muttered Tidus shaking his head. "I'll go ask Wakka where you can spend the night all right?"

"Thanks." He said taking a swig from his flask. "Tomorrow I have something to inform Yuna's guardians."

Tidus showed a confused and yet curious expression. ("Huh?")

"Tomorrow." Repeated Auron firmly, walking with Tidus on the dirt path to Wakka's tent. "It's also very much related to your story."

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"So... how you been?" Asked Wakka helping Lulu prepare breakfast. "Uh, Tidus you just sit there with Auron ya? Before you break something..."

Wakka's home was a tent just like any other traditional home at Besaid. Everything was in a large single area, and everything had its own spot and place. The arrangement was circular, with the dining table in the middle. On the floor were cushions where visitors and himself would sit.

Auron tugged his tall collar, "Just like Jecht."

"Ugh." Sighed Tidus putting his hands on his head.

Lulu came with a plate of fried fish with bread and gently laid in on the circular table. The day-to-day food at Besaid. Nearby Wakka clanked about with a pan, frying more fish but in a different style. It smelt very fresh.

He craned his neck as he said, "This clown broke four plates already."

"Sorry." Grinned Tidus sheepishly, his cheeks turning into a shade of magenta.

"It's okay, just don't break any more!" Replied Wakka, taking off his mittens used for cooking. He came over and joined the other three at the reddish-brown table.

"Where's Kimahri?" Asked Lulu, looking out the cosy tent.

Wakka, taking a chunk of bread in his mouth said certainly, "Mahri will be here soon. He's never late."

"I won't say my message until Kimahri gets here." Said Auron, cutting up his piece of fish after pulling down his collar. (It was the only during meal-time people saw his mouth.) He paused and asked after he realised something, "Where's Rikku?"

Lulu answered him after sipping some warm tea, her red eyes still watching for the Ronso. "She's in her home town. We can send her a letter. Missing her already?"

Auron looked away. Tidus ran out of the tent calling, "Yo Kimahri! Whatcha got there? Whoa!"

"Kimahri caught whale fish this morning." Replied Yuna's foster parent. Dangling on his iron spear by a tattered rope, was a big greyish-blue fish that had already been gutted earlier. Although he did not appear to be the type, he often showed his affection and gratitude by bringing gifts of food to his adopted family at Besaid.

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After the small Ronso had cooked his gift out at the back and brought it in, Auron spread his message. He did so staring at Tidus who was scoffing whale fish faster than he could swallow.

Kimahri shook his head disapprovingly, and ate his large steaming share slowly. Wakka and Lulu were not surprised, it appeared that they were used to his mealtime habits.

"Get ready," began Auron, "I will get Yuna and we will go to defeat Sin."

Tidus coughed and nearly choked on his food, Lulu looked up sharply, Wakka asked 'why' and Kimahri stopped eating altogether.

"What? But isn't she married and all to Seymour?" Coughed Tidus, thumping his chest.

Wakka shook his head and corrected him, "It's _Maester _Seymour brudda. But, he's right, she's quit summoning now. We can't..."

Auron repeated, "I have a plan, and Yuna will be with us. But I cannot explain my plan until we are at Zanarkand. I would rather you all see for yourselves." He looked different as he said more, "This time it will be different. This time... the Calm will be eternal and Sin will never return again."

After he said that, no one spoke or moved a muscle. No one dared challenge the legendary guardian. After the silent and searing moment, Lulu asked.

"What do you intend us to do?"

Auron turned his head, with greying hair at the sides and said, "I want you all to train hard and get dramatically stronger in battle."

"Beat Sin forever?" Asked Wakka, his mouth open.

Said Auron, "Don't make me repeat myself." He finished his meal, and then told Tidus, "After you're done I'll need to speak to you privately. We'll take a walk outside. And bring your sword along."

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Tidus strolled with his parental figure, who had come about to care for him in Zanarkand as far back as he could almost remember. He looked at the battle scarred man, and piped "You said something about my story. What did you mean by that?"

"What did you feel when you were near Sin?" Prompted the red warrior.

"I don't know..." Tidus wondered, "well weird. It was all so heavy man, you know?" It was a sunny and humid tropical day. Tidus looked up at the bright blue sky and sighed. "Come to think of it... it felt all... it kinda felt familiar." His cheery expression was gone, his face scrunched into a frown.

"You felt him didn't you?" Smirked Auron, leaning onto his broad katana. The wind from the ocean blowing on them both.

"But how, how could he be? It doesn't make any sense!" He looked at Auron desperately for an answer, a thousand questions and thoughts rushing through his mind.

"Sin is Jecht."

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**End Of Chapter Twelve**

**Readers? I got a problem. I'm suffering from writer's block, and have no inspiration to continue.**

I _NEED_

suggestions and encouragement!!

(Send me via private message or review!)


	13. The Idea Of Dying

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X fan-fic

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

--

"Auron? Are you crazy??"

"Start training." Replied the sentient red warrior, tossing his greying head.

"I know Sin felt familiar and all... but... It wasn't the toxin was it?"

"No." Auron eyed Tidus exasperatedly from behind his dark sunglasses.

Okay fine! Fine!" Said Tidus sulking, then his expression changed when he popped his blond head up and asked, "But how are you gonna make Yuna come? Wait! That Maester Guy isn't coming with us to defeat Sin right? And... I don't want Yuna to die!"

"He will not be coming with us, and no! Yuna nor anybody, for that matter will be dying." Auron said impatiently.

"Oh that's great man! So... um. How you gonna make Yuna come?"

"That's _my_ problem. I'm going now." Auron huffed, wondering how on Spira did he put up with Tidus in Zanarkand for all those years.

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In the morning light Yuna yawned and woke up, pushing the soft covers aside. The first thing she did was turn to her side and she noticed that Seymour was already gone. Feeling a tiny bit of disappointment she stretched and yawned.

There came a knock on the door, and Yuna recognised Pescal's pleasant baritone voice from outside. "Lady Yuna? May I come in?"

"You may." Yuna consented.

The door creaked open, and Pescal stepped in carrying her bath towel, clean clothing neatly folded and with a note on top. "Master Seymour wrote you a message before he left for the office." Reported the butler.

"Thank you Pescal."

"The pleasure's all mine Lady Yuna." He set her things on the dresser, turned to face her, bowed and shortly left the cosy room.

Yuna picked up the small piece of paper and read, admiring his exquisite handwriting:

_My Lady,_

_Forgive me for not being able to have breakfast with you._

_I had to leave early to go to the office, regarding the affair of being summoned_

_to Bevelle._

_I had half a mind to wake you up, but I could not find it in myself_

_to disturb your sleep._

_I will see you for dinner after our respective classes._

_My deepest sad affection,_

_Seymour_

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"Good morning class!" Smiled Yuna, standing before her choir.

"Good morning teacher." Her very first class responded, bowing to her briefly. Although they were silent, they watched her with benign respect and with gentle expression.

She tilted her head to the side and asked, "Are you always so quiet?"

By their appearance, Yuna would say that they were aged eleven to thirteen. There were fifteen of them altogether. At her question for a moment they glanced at one another, unsure of how to answer.

"We are, most of the time." Said one orange-haired girl.

"Priest Wenex dislikes - nay, hates our 'frivolous chatter' of any kind."

Yuna had a bemused expression, before she suggested, "Talking is all right, just not while you're singing. Let's start by an introduction, starting from the left!"

"I am Lasder." Bowed the first. He was the only Guado Yuna had seen so far with black hair.

When Yuna bowed back there was a small uproar.

"Teacher don't do that! Prithee!"

"No!" Cried another, her hands half-raised in shock as if Yuna was brandishing a knife.

Yuna raised her fine eyebrows and stood up straight, "Why?"

Lasder bowed his head again, and held it in that position as he explained. "Because you are our superior we bow to you. Showing unconditional respect to our elder, it is the Guado way."

"Oh." Understood Yuna. "Let's continue shall we? Hello Lasder!"

"I'm Fald Guado." Bowed the tall youngling that spoke a few days to Yuna before, the one with silky violet hair.

"Lapp Guado." Announced the next, bowing.

A girl with green hair bowed, "I am Maris."

"Noya Guado." Bowed a girl's orange-haired head.

One after the other, they introduced themselves. And then the first and initial lesson commenced. She told them to sing what they usually did, after they had warmed up. First was always the song of the fayth, and other songs for Yevon.

Yuna liked them, and immediately she took to remembering each unique face, and each of their strengths and weaknesses. It felt satisfyingly wonderful, she never knew she would become a teacher of any sort. But here she was, teaching a choir of one of the most elusive races on Spira.

By and by before the lesson ended, they dutifully asked her permission whether or not they could sing her some ancient traditional Guado songs. Delighted, she bid them to do so. Animated and encouraged, they made her sit.

They were silent for a moment, then they began. Their tones were low and beautifully haunting. Steady... with a graceful power. They sang with their eyes closed, and Yuna mutually did the same while she listened. That piece to her was so sorrowful and filled with nostalgia, she was reminded strangely of her very young misty childhood, from when she was very young. By the pace and rhythm, it seemed that their song told a story.

When they ended, Yuna laughed and clapped. "That was beautiful guys!"

Beaming at her compliment, they gracefully bowed to her all at once.

Yuna narrowed her eyes and said spright-fully, "Why are you always so quiet?"

They laughed at that comment, some shook their heads as they did. "We're not used to this ma'am- uh teacher." Said one.

"Teacher? We'll try to be a little more talkative next time."

Yuna folded her arms, pretending to look as though she was in disbelief. "Really? Okay, you say so. Class dismissed!"

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Seymour sat in front of his desk in the office. He had just finished, and sent a short to-the-point formal letter to Bevelle, confirming his and his wife's attendance for the meeting. He sighed and yawned. Listless and tired from doing paper work, signing letters and writing letters the half the day he leant forward and massaged his temples.

Although spent, there were many things going through his overworked mind. Of what Yuna had told him at the rustling and windy field under the grey skies... She was right, it was better.. so much more better to be alive than dead. He knew she was blatantly right, but it was so difficult for him to accept although it pierced through the membrane of his beliefs. He cursed his irrational emotions, he was a slave to them. Why was it so harshly difficult?

He frowned. Working his wit to find the answer. He could not help but feel all this was dumbly pointless. Completely pointless. Again with dread he realised that he began to feel an unwelcome old emotion. One of which he had not felt for years. The emotion that nearly drove him insane on baaj. The feeling of unimaginable despair, the feeling of desire for suicide on that frigid, dull and hopeless island.

Since his life had no meaning and purpose like before, he thought that he might as well end _his_ personal suffering and commit his last act of merciful self-slaughter. He could not destroy Spira, it would hurt Yuna. Yet, he would never have her. Nothing would matter anymore, if he could just die. End to all worries, and end to having a mind and opinions.

He tried to convince himself to see Yuna as a friend, and just that. He fought to, but he failed. It was miserably and desperately out of his control.

At Macalania, he purposely wandered to the crumbling edge of the glacier. He stood there and thought, 'this looks familiar.' The difference in height, and how close he was to oblivion... All he needed to do was step forward, just one step forward and he would end all of this. But like on Baaj, he could not do it. He cursed himself, of course he wanted to die! Why would his foot not move?

He yelled, accusing himself of being a spineless coward. He stepped back grudgingly, shaking. He could not do it, he could not do something like this to his people...

If he wanted to die, he had to plan strategically how to. Without causing any complications. It would not be easy... his presence would be needed for morale and he had no intention of staying here as an unsent. He also had to be present to protect them as their leader.

There were many alternative paths to take, or as the famous saying goes, 'there is more than one way to skin a moomba.'

"Dying is definitely possible then." He whispered to himself, the cold wind whipping his form.

"Teacher...?" Came a small voice from behind.

Seymour turned around in the snow, he had been so deeply lost in his thoughts that he had been deaf to the approach of four of his little students.

Red-haired Heshmal voiced his name again, "Maester Seymour?" Standing side-by side was Mirin and Bramble. Further away was Lars. None of them looked comfortable, they had most likely smelt his mood.

"Yes."

Deciding it was safe to come near him, they did. As usual they clustered around his middle.

Mirin looked at him, her green eyes wide with confusion at the way he smelt she asked, "Teacher are you okay?"

Bramble jumped and warmly hugged his middle tightly, his small face buried in Seymour's thick silk sash.

Heshmal inhaled deeply, pulling uncertainly on Seymour's long sleeve. Noticing that no reply came he asked, "Teacher... are you... sick?"

Seymour knew, they had surely never smelt this frightening emotion before. He made a note to never allow his emotions to blare so pungently or obviously again. He knelt and took in their faces, his outwardly calm. He half-lied, "Yes I am sick. There will be no class today." Bramble, Mirin and Heshmal leant onto him and ran their claws deep through his hair. Soothed abit by their sincere affection, he noticed that Lars who was slightly older than the three stepped back from Seymour. Tears were in his cold grey eyes.

Seymour had his arms around his three dear students, patting their backs for that tender moment. He tensed, Lars knew. Keeping eye-contact with Lars, he said, "I will recover."

Lars did not look convinced. He had his small hands closed in fists. He began shaking his bushy head slowly, the hurting tears were threatening to fall down his veined cheeks.

"Lars, I am just sick. There is nothing to cry about."

At those words Lars unashamedly began shedding his tears, unable to hold them back any longer.

Forcing himself, Seymour had to lie again. "My wife knows I am sick. She will take good care of me. I _promise_ I will always be here for you. Come here."

He thought he could die from guilt in that group hug. ("Hush now, everything is fine. I will recover.")

After comforting them, and giving them despicable false security, he went to the foreboding woods with his priest's stave.

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"Welcome back home master Seymour. Lady Yuna is waiting for you in the drawing room." Bowed Tromell at the brass entrance of the grand manor. Tromell had his mouth open at the sight of him.

Just then Pescal came in from the dining room with a glass of water on a tray, he nearly dropped it. "Sir! Are you all right?"

"Master Seymour!" Cried Tromell, fussing over him, "Where did you go, what did you do?"

Seymour's clothes were thoroughly and impressively ruined. Shredded at the sleeves, exposing his pale skin, and here and there it was flecked with dark fiend's blood. It even was singed brown in some places. His boots were coated with a mixture of earth, blood and mud.

"I decided to shirk my responsibilities and go for a romp with fiends in the forest."

Both servants diverted their gazes onto the stone and rich marble floor. Shocked of his behaviour, but keeping silent with proper protocol, knowing their positions.

"Tell my wife I will go and have a bath, and I will be taking her out to dinner this evening."

--

**End Of Chapter Thirteen**

**This chapter is dedicated to JCKV Fan...**

Review dammit! I know you all are out there! I've got writer's block, and I NEED

morale boosters!!

(Is why this chapter is so grossly short)


	14. Your Halfbreed Husband

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X fan-fic

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

--

As the clerk at Seymour's office had said, Lord Seymour had to report to Bevelle for a session. It was about the increasing Sin attacks, and the disturbing disappearance of numerous Summoners all over Spira.

"The meeting has commenced. Maester Mika will now require your attention." Announced Kelk Ronso, taking his place at the sombre court of Yevon.

All heads turned to ancient Maester Mika wearing his usual dark grey high priest's cap with robes, and he crept onto the stage smiling solemnly. He began, his aged voice unsteady, wavering but wise and purposeful. "As all know, there have been increasing attacks near the shores. Most likely due to the trend of Summoners going missing, Sin has gotten bold of late. The public has been raving with gossip about the calm being out of reach, and that the Temple of Yevon is doing nothing about the situation. Allowing the people to be in peril."

Maester Mika cleared his throat, and continued again. "The case is presently being investigated by our Warrior Monks and the Crusaders. In time being, we need a diversion for Spira's masses. We will be doing a second operation Mi' 'ihen."

Before those assembled at the meeting could protest further, Maester Mika waved his pale hand for order and silence. "We have no choice. The Monks and Crusaders need more time to solve the case. Before Yevonite protesters start causing complications for Yevon. Maester Kinoc has already made arrangements with the Al Bhed regarding the machina needed. Operation Mi' 'ihen Session 2 will take place two months from now."

Seated in the luscious stands of the court were Seymour and Yuna. Yuna was frowning.

The High Priest then began his usual formal and serious speech on the spiral of death in Spira, which took no longer than one sleep-inducing hour or so. If it did not happen, Yuna would have held onto her belief that Seymour was joking.

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"False hope for the people of Spira." Said Seymour to Yuna, who was sitting with him in his private Bevelle Maester's Chambers. It was in the late afternoon.

"Does this happen often, as in, deceiving the people I mean?" Asked Yuna, in an unsettled manner looking out of through the open and airy balcony.

"It does." Confirmed Seymour, frowning. "I can tell the truth of it hurts you."

"More people are going to die!" Whispered Yuna. Shaking her pretty head sadly.

"I myself am speechless, forgive me Yuna. I am afraid that there is nothing more we can do." Gently he put his forearm over hers with amity and offered, "Would visiting the greenhouse of Highbridge raise your spirits?" He so wanted to fold his arms around her, but he knew otherwise.

She looked up at him and smiled, "You're so sweet Seymour."

"Of course I am."

"Seymour!" She laughed and smacked his shoulder at his jest.

At the Greenhouse he sat on a marble bench and watched her, frolicking about the beautiful flowers and exotic colourful fungi. The more he watched the more longing he felt for her, the more ascending pain and discontentment he felt in his disordered conscience. He could never have her, he closed his eyes in inflamed guilt for a moment and bit hard the satin cuff of his overcoat.

"Seymour, are you okay?" He heard her sweet voice next to him, and the weight of her hand on his arm.

He let go of the cloth between his teeth, and lied quietly with sound affliction. "I'm fine." He smelt her, feeling her hand on his arm, there was concern and platonic tenderness. _Platonic_ tenderness.

"What's wrong?" She asked, stroking the thick blue hair at the back of his bowed head.

He sharply wanted to tell her that _everything_ was wrong. That he was in distressed suffering because she did not return his relatively unconcealed feelings towards her. That he felt like dying, and such a fool. That he should have just carried out his plans to obliterate Spira. That all this was -

He steeled his appearance and looked up at her rather emotionlessly, and squeezed her hand. "Nothing is the matter. I am fine my lady... I assure you."

"Ah my son." Came an old voice some distance away. It was Maester Mika, holding an ornate, and finely crafted silver watering can. "How have you and your wife fared?" Standing next to him was a sweaty Maester Kinoc.

Yuna and Seymour stood up on their feet and bowed in respect to revered Mika. "We have been fine your grace." Replied Yuna, holding her tall husband's clawed hand.

"Wonderful to hear that from you Lady Yuna." Said Maester Mika, smiling and walking past her to water a short stumpy bush that was bearing blue berries and pink flowers. Because he was already that way with age, he did not need to bend to water the plants.

Seymour watched the old man in blissful content, watering his plants. He wondered about the old man's thoughts. As if Mika could read his mind, he asked breaking the silence. "Seymour my boy, is there something troubling you? It is unlike you to remain silent in my presence."

Kinoc rolled his eyes and said, "He is too proud to admit any of his numerous troubles my Lord."

Maester Mika took his time with his watering can. He turned for a moment to face Kinoc and said, "As are you." He emptied the can while Kinoc balked audibly. Mika hobbled over to Seymour.

"My Lord." Seymour knelt to make himself level with the feeble High Maester.

"Come and find me later before dinner at the halls. I will be here in the greenhouse of Highbridge.

"Yes Lord Mika."

"You may rise, and be as you were." The old man went to a faucet nearby and filled his watering can. As always he spoke in a leisurely pace. "Dear girl, what have you been doing since you have moved in with your husband?"

Yuna went to Mika's side to speak to him, while he tended to his plants. "I have since become a choir teacher." Seymour kept at her side, holding her soft hand.

"How lovely." Replied Mika, his white moustache and beard stretching into what Yuna thought looked like a smile.

"You have to teach me sometime lady Yuna." Laughed Kinoc.

"Of course." Bowed Yuna. She felt the grip of Seymour's hand suddenly tighten around hers, and she looked up at him reassuringly.

"Sometime tonight Yuna?" Asked Kinoc, mopping sweat from his brow.

Seymour clenched his jaw and corrected, "_Lady_ Yuna, Kinoc."

Kinoc must have seen the look of venom in Seymour's eyes and quickly excused himself. Realising that he was pushing his luck, he said to Yuna "See you later in the evening after dinner Lady Yuna!"

As round-faced Kinoc disappeared, Seymour leaned to Yuna's ear and whispered, "Forgive me for being an over-protective husband."

Yuna blushed and smiled shyly, when the wizened voice of Maester Mika sounded. He was holding a blossom in his wrinkled hands, admiring its natural beauty. He asked, "My dear girl, have you danced with Lord Seymour yet?"

Yuna looked at up Seymour, puzzled and then again at Maester Mika. She saw a shadow of a smile grace Seymour's features before it returned to its usual arid impassive state.

"So you have not." Smiled Mika gently, the silver watering can dangling from his hand.

"Seymour, you never told me you dance!" She said to him.

Lord Seymour seemed tongue tied for a moment, before he blinked and answered, "I thought you knew since I was Summoner like you..."

"I thought you just knew how to perform sendings! Not all Summoners dance." Returned Yuna, bumping her head onto his shoulder.

Seymour said bitterly and yet, at the same time in an eloquently playful way, "And it must be so unexpected. Yes, I know Yuna I am so disgusting, cruel and uncultured a man. It is a wonder that you are not prostrate with laughter."

Mika walked forward and said at Seymour's sarcasm, "Back to normal again my boy." Then he turned and slowly left, leaving Yuna and Seymour alone.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"So... will you show me? We've got plenty of time before dinner."

The two of them were completely alone. Before them was an oval pool of still water, the base of the structure was obsidian, making the surface of the still water appear like the flawless crystalline face of a mirror.

"I shall, if I could hold onto you to steady myself." Seymour amorously pulled her to the water with him.

It was a Summoner's sending pool. Not all the time did Summoners dance to send the dead, but occasionally they also danced to entertain and for recreation.

Yuna mused to him, "There's always a catch isn't there?"

He did not answer that, but dotingly led her onto the clear unmoving water. Both concentrated, as if they were going to really perform a sending. Thus it was magic and spirit that allowed Summoners the legendary ability to walk on water.

Seymour whispered, "Pity. No staff today. Have you done this before?" His hands straying from her smooth shoulders, to her soft slender hands.

Yuna nodded, and ran one hand on his shoulder, the other clasped in his. The familiar feeling of weightlessness came over her, while they slowly but steadily stepped toward the centre of the pool.

At the centre, they got used to each other's spirit and will power. Yuna trembled slightly for the first few seconds. He felt heavy with dormant hate and stubborn violence, and she was acutely reminded of his power along with his volatile temper. She could feel it in his hand, although he only gently held hers. It was just there, _there_ in front of her. She felt that dark attraction that she had for him grow again. It crept back onto her... stealing into her heart and mind.

Dance on the water they did.

He looked into her eyes, allowing her to wield this invisible power she had over him. Ever since the first time he saw her that power was there, and now it was getting stronger. Seymour felt her calming compassion, her pure unconditional love for the people. Her serenity and balance of mind. It was wonderful, he felt as though all around he was wrapped in her emotion and tender soul. At the same instant he sadly felt her intimidation. With his eyes half-closed, he led her in starting the dance.

They turned once, then twice. Beneath their feet, the water quickly responded to their steps. Tremulously it carried them upwards, folding and cascading into itself. As they danced, the water was no longer silent, its voice could be heard as every droplet fell back into it, and as it foamed new ripples, continuing to be manipulated by their magic.

Although the water was splashing around them and washing over their ankles, they remained dry without getting wet at all. Although they could feel the remitting coolness of the water, lapping around them... with that distinct rushing sound of waves.

Tentatively they danced, yet almost losing themselves in the parading and cogent sensations of each other's spirit and life essence. Yuna felt as though she was dancing with a magnificent and untamed fiend. She had never danced with such a strong partner before.

The characteristic rushing sound of the sparkling water was their music and accompaniment. Seymour found his eyes adoring her pink lips, painfully he looked away.

As the waves slid under their feet, Yuna felt as though she could no longer hold up against his energy, and was relieved to find that he noticed. Thoughtfully he steered her towards the edge of the pool to stop with their exhausting waltz.

"Are you all right?" He asked, concerned looking at her closely. She was sweating. With a claw, he brushed a lock of her brunette hair out of her eyes.

"I'm fine. Just tired." She replied breathing deeply. She was still recovering, she could still feel his intensity pressing on her shoulders. "When we danced, I... why do you have guilt in your spirit?" Her heart was pounding, as she felt the last of his overwhelming magic evaporate from her. It was breath-taking, his anger marked in her mind, his passion proven and carved into her soul.

They made their way to a bench and sat. A thousand possible answers to that question raced through his mind. He had better just logically leave out the part about desperately wanting to die because she did not feel for him. He sighed and told her, feeling arrows of nervous guilt punching through him that he had to keep things from her, "I just feel it is better for everybody to die and end all of this."

She was looking at him intently, and he could tell she did not favour what he said.

"Forgive me Yuna, I cannot help but. I am too fixed in my opinions. I am so confused!"

"Seymour, it'll be okay in time. Really it will." She said to him gently, a steady and sincere quality in her voice calmed the unsteadiness of his emotions.

"I am an idiot Yuna."

"You know that's not true Seymour. Your guilt will go away in time." She said, her eyes meeting his. "What time is it now, we should be going to the hall for dinner."

"Yes, we should before we are late." As they got up he lied to her to calm her, "Yes. I'll be fine."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

After dinner as he had promised Maester Mika, Seymour went to seek him out in the famous greenhouse of Highbridge. Yuna said she would be having a private lesson with Kinoc, much to Seymour's resentment.

"There is so much conflict within you my son." Commented Mika, his hands together.

"Does it seem so obvious Sir?" Seymour returned, and bowed at the sight of him in the shimmering pale blue light from the water above.

"Painfully my child." Mika replied, looking up at the much younger Maester. "I know you are one, especially to keep secrets. What ails you?"

Seymour felt his heart jump and shameful tears pricked his eyes. Quickly he glanced away.

"You look as though you have the weight of the whole world on your shoulders my boy."

Seymour continued to look at the cultured greenery, and the lights of the vast city in the distance through the glass of the giant greenhouse. His trembling mouth sealed shut.

"Could you at least enlighten me as to what you are feeling young man? Sadness, anger, envy?"

"I am feeling guilt my Lord." Seymour said, fighting to keep his tears in check.

"One only feels guilt, when one feels that one has done something wrong." Mika said, with his fingers on his white beard. "Can you reverse whatever it is that you have done?"

Seymour said through an unsteady breath, wracked with mad emotion. "I-I doubt so my Lord." He could not look straight at Mika.

Maester Mika shook his head, and asked. "What is it? You have not committed murder again or some unspeakable sin."

In Seymour's mind, he did. He planned this from the day he returned from Baaj. To make use of his power, influence, and to finally bring an end to fear and pain. There would be no more fighting, Sin or wars between people. All strife and troubles on Spira forever. To save the people from Sin. And now he could not do it, he had promised Yuna. He opened his mouth and said, "I am just lost Lord Mika."

"There, there." Said Mika gently, patting Seymour's back. "Bear in mind that things don't always go according to plan. Adapt to your situation, whatever it is."

The half-Guado closed his eyes and nodded. Now he felt that his greater purpose was shrouded in mystery.

"Help me with my gardening?" Prompted Mika.

Seymour nodded in consent.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"Maester Kinoc, I don't think we should be doing this." Yuna protested, stepping nervously away from him in the dark, the lights from the city shining in the night.

"Come now Yuna, Seymour isn't here. What he doesn't know won't kill him." Kinoc simpered, advancing closer to Yuna. His hands were fidgeting. It was obscene. "No one will see us here."

She backed up until her back was against the cold metal rail of Kinoc's balcony. She frantically yelled for help, instantly regretting coming here alone.

"Shut up!" Kinoc cast silence on the summoner.

Now without her magic she was was even more helpless. She closed her eyes and concentrated.

"Summoning I see? Not tonight."

Yuna felt her wrist forcibly held, and Kinoc's hand ripping the thin cloth of her dress, the cloth tearing dangerously close to her heaving bosom. She tried to push him away, but his strength prevented that.

"That homosexual Seymour can't give you what I can!"

She thrashed her head to the side, struggling because she felt his filthy mouth make contact with her fine neck. In pure disgust she fought a losing battle of resistance.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

For about an hour Seymour helped Mika do his therapeutic gardening and replied when Mika asked what he thought about the lush garden. Then, all of a sudden he felt that something was wrong. Very wrong.

He put his hand on his tight chest, and stood there like that for a moment. It was corroding poisonously right into him. For the past weeks, he had gotten closer to Yuna. He sensed... she was in discomfort somewhere.

For the second time that awful evening he heard Mika ask, his voice laden with fatherly concern, "Are you fine my son?"

He replied, his gaze wild and frantic. "My wife."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"Lord Seymour, you are not allowed through." Stammered a guard nervously, "Maester Kinoc has ordered us to make sure he and lady Yuna are not to be disturbed."

Seymour was highly agitated. "Get out of the way!"

"Sir, I can't-"

"GET OUT OF THE WAY!" Barked Seymour flinging the guard aside onto the marble floor. The guard had the breath knocked out of him.

Seymour's head in a whirl, he looked left and right. She was here, somewhere around here. Frustratingly close. As the eternal seconds went by he felt worse. He spread his long arms and screamed, "YUNA! Where are you?!"

He heard a muffled scream, worried out of his mind he ran down the hallway, and rammed his shoulder against the gilded white door in his way.

With the door down, he stood there in the threshold. He saw through Kinoc's quarters his Yuna struggling in the lecherous Kinoc's grasp, at the open air of the balcony. Fear and at the same time relief, shining in her mismatched-coloured eyes at the timely appearance of her husband.

He did not need to tell Kinoc to let Yuna go. When Maester Kinoc saw him there, he automatically did. As she fell onto the carpeted floor trying to cover herself in humiliation, Kinoc stared slack-jawed at Seymour in horrified surprise.

As Seymour strode forward, he was the very picture of malice. Kinoc watched wordlessly, as Seymour breathed through his mouth, his hands clenched and his knuckles white. The only thing that kept him in control was Yuna. He could sense that she needed him.

He went over to her, and looked at her. His blazing eyes trailed to where her fine dress was torn. He shrugged off his long velvet overcoat and covered her to keep her modesty, then easily picked her up and carried her petrified form. Getting a better grip, he turned and walked away as if Kinoc was not there.

From where Seymour had broken in, shouts came in from the hallway. Guards were pouring into the room. One of the bolder guards stepped forward and told Seymour to stop.

Coldly and emotionlessly, Seymour said with his wife in his arms, his voice like ice. "If you know what is good for you back off fodder."

Ignoring the publicly shocked stares he was getting, he curtly ordered for the fastest chocobo carriage.

Inside he held her against his tattooed chest protectively. Whispering again and again that he was here ("I have you now Yuna."), growing more angry because he noticed that she could not speak because she had silence cast onto her.

Finally she whispered, her voice hoarse from the spell. "How did you know?"

"I felt your spirit. As your _half-breed_ husband I was inclined to know." He pulled her closer even though she was already on his lap, with her face resting on his chest he rubbed the small of her bare back. "If I were pure Guado, I would have felt your distress earlier, and none of this would not have happened." He said through clenched teeth. When he felt her shiver, he pulled his coat over her.

Holding onto Yuna who was dry-eyed and in shock, they returned to Guadosalam. By the time they reached the manor, it was well past midnight.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"Goodness, what happened here?!" Tromell asked, staring at Seymour who was carrying his half-naked sleeping wife.

Pescal immediately left the room for his medical equipment. His footsteps echoing in the lamp-lit gloom.

Seymour was glaring, staring fiercely ahead into space. Coldly he replied, "Need I state the obvious Tromell?"

Tromell shook his head, confused. The only thing clear to him was his master's rage and boiling animus.

"I LET HER GET MOLESTED!" Bellowed Seymour, walking through the silent hall, up the curved stairs and into the master bedroom. There was the sound of the large door closing, and then Tromell heard no more.

Pescal returned to the hall near the front door of the dark manor. With his medical things he asked softly, just above a whisper his purple eyes faintly visible in the poor light. "Tromell what happened?"

Tromell, already who had naturally sloping green brows that gave him a sorrowful expression looked painfully worried. He replied to Pescal, "I fear that an old demon has come to haunt our master. His insecurity of being what he refers to as being incomplete."

"Yevon forbid." Pescal muttered, his eyes downcast. "Did you-"

"Yes, I'm afraid I did. Even from that space I scented him." Tromell sighed, recalling former memories of a child Seymour screaming at the top of his lungs for all the world to hear that he was an utter freak.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

In the dim room, he carefully laid her onto the bed. Hating himself he watched her shift in her torn dress, and whisper, "... Seymour...?"

"I'm here." He said in a low tone, sat next to her and helped her remove her footwear, so that she may sleep in comfort. When he saw that she tried to get up off the soft bedding, he pushed her down trying cover her with the blanket.

"I want to take off and throw away this dress. I don't want to remember."

He could only tell so much from how she smelt, he got angrier when she saw her quivering. He could not fight the question he wanted to ask. "How far did that bastard get with you?"

She reached for him, and felt his thigh through his thick clothing. "Not far, you saved me before the point of no return."

"If I had come later, I shudder to think about what he could have done to you... I-"

"But you came... You came, it's all that matters... It's over now."

"Yuna..." Seymour persisted in anguish, wringing his fingers, violently clutching the blanket in his grasp.

"Seymour... I really need to get rid of this dress." Her soft soprano voice laced with discomfort. She shook his thigh, "We could bathe and then we could go to sleep. It's been a long day."

Silence.

She looked up weakly at him and whispered, "It's okay, it's over."

"I feel like I want to kill him."

••••••••••

**End Of Chapter Fourteen**

This chapter is dedicated to all you gentle peeps out there who

reviewed! (Anon. first then fellow site members!)

**Thanks for showing love by answering my plea in **

**the last chapter!!**

**ANONYMOUS:** :) (You know who you are with the smilies!), Random 2008, "- ..."

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••••••••••••••••••••

**MEMBERS:**JCKV fan, Lone-Chan/Foreveralone16, DarkAngelEriko, Darkangel Guard, Bahamutchar!

And before chapter 13 (Yes, you peeps still matter): DestinyStarX12, Manga Girl number 6, frailynxdresden!

•jumps up and down•


	15. Away From You

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X fan-fic

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

--

Yuna was sitting with Seymour on a wide coarse cloth spread out on the grass. They were in that vast field next to the bubbling brook again, having a picnic with his class. The younglings were (free as anything) running all over the airy place, shrieking.

"Stop running so fast or you will all get indigestion!" He held a teacup and saucer, the everyday objects looked small in his massive blue-clawed hands, as he stirred his tea with a silver spoon. He leaned closer and lowered his voice so that they would not hear, "I know it is useless to tell them that, but I do regardless because I must behave like their teacher."

She did not reply to that. Yuna was still obviously shaken by what had happened to her at Bevelle last night. His expression darkened. He thought cynically; 'I knew we should not have went to Bevelle. I am pathetic and incompetent. I do not even know how to care for my own wife.'

He wondered if he looked insensitive by trying to joke with her to lighten her spirits. Brutally, he cursed himself within on how clumsy he was at this.

His students had evidently smelt his unhappy mood today, and stayed well within the limits of the area not daring to wander too far off. They knew what an angry Seymour would be like.

Seymour realised he had been dreaming when Yuna covered her mouth, and suddenly for no apparent reason laughed hard with her beautiful round eyes shut.

"What on Spira are you laughing at?"

When the disgruntled Maester turned around, he saw the answer a few feet behind him creeping in the long light-green grass. He laughed loudly and heartily at the sight. With red and purple berry pie sauce dripping from their mouths and chins, two mischievous younglings staggered as if they were afflicted with zombie, and with what they hoped were convincing hair-raising expressions of the unsent. One had dark blue hair, the other had bright yellow.

Around them, the class held their sides shaking in silent laughter. Perhaps keeping their end to be quiet for effect. Before long they gave in and let out their laughs in explosive peals.

Yuna picked up a white napkin, still out of breath from laughing motioned for one to come near.

Seymour laughed, "That's quite enough now." He cleaned the sweet sticky sauce off Bramble's grinning face while Yuna tended to Aria who was still in a giggling fit.

"Do I make a good unsent teacher?" Asked Bramble, jumping up and down. Nearby was Heshmal holding onto a half-eaten fruit pot pie, laughing and pointing at his friend.

Aria bowed and thanked Yuna for cleaning her mouth and leant to Yuna's ear with cupped little hands. "We're lucky that teacher didn't get mad. When he really is, he's really scary and he swears worse than my papa!"

Yuna smiled at glanced at Seymour, who was still fussing over unruly Bramble who would not keep still enough to facilitate cleaning, and at the same time reprimanding Heshmal who was 'talking with his mouth full.'

Yuna asked curiously, "What does he say?"

"What the farplane, holy farplane..."

Yuna listened in stunned amusement, dropping the napkin she held in her hand, not noticing that the breeze in the field had carried it a little ways off. It landed on the green grass.

"...bloody farplane, son-of-a-shoopuf, damn- oh. After these, it gets really bad and I mustn't say. Maester Seymour told us younglings must never say such things. Only adults can."

Yuna raised her eyebrows.

"But we were really naughty those times so..."

Yuna had her mouth slightly open.

Mistaking Yuna's silence for shock, Aria said quickly, "But it's not like teacher spanks us or anything..."

Yuna covered her mouth as she giggled, watching the round-faced child Guado reassure her that they really were not hurt. She told Yuna that he never raised a clawed hand at them, ever.

Aria squinted at a memory a year or so ago, saying slowly while she thought, Lars now sitting next to her. "There was one time... we saw teacher crying like one of us. He was just lying on his back in the snow... funny thing was he said he could not remember that he did the next day."

"Really?" Questioned Yuna, interested to hear more. Brushing her silky brown hair from her face as the pleasant wind ruffled it.

"Another time it was like he did not see or feel us there." He smelt really funny. "Mirin says that he smelt funny again just the other day."

"Funny?" Yuna gently smoothed Aria's yellow hair, which had the texture of straw. She thought of the emotional black outs that Seymour had if he were pushed to the limits of his tolerance.

It was then that Lars widened his slate grey eyes and said urgently, "But Lady Yuna, the other day it was different, the other day he smelt like -"

"All clean now Aria?" Came Seymour's docile voice suddenly from behind. He sat down next to Yuna and looked at the youngling's now stainless face.

Yuna noticed that Lars still held an expression of pleading alarm and desperation in his eyes, as though he had something remarkably important to tell her. Then without warning, another youngling with dense purple hair yelled and tagged him from behind, causing him to laugh and temporarily forget it all as he joined in the game.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

At dinner time at Macalania temple, Seymour watched Yuna intently whilst she ate. Her appetite was clearly poor. She was obviously not fine.

It was a casual dinner in the round dining room of the temple, with the monks and other priests. There they knelt comfortably on the cold marble floor. Surrounding them were the tiled walls, draped with red and maroon religious tapestries, with the scriptures of Yevon stitched onto them. On the higher parts, chunks of ice encrusted the protruding features of the dining chamber occasionally glistening in the warm orange light.

"Yuna, you are still not well." Seymour said to her gently.

She looked up slowly in response, her expression gloomy.

"Tomorrow I shall send you back to your homeland. Besaid, where you can get better." Seymour's resolve tightened. In his mind, he thought that at the same time he would be able to plan how was he going to commit suicide without her around.

"Are you coming?" Yuna asked, her expression brighter at the thought of visiting her home, sunny and windy Besaid.

"Do you desire my presence?" He asked his face straight, expressionless, but only in the tone of his voice could his uncertainty be detected.

"Yes please." Her voice sounded positively through the formal chatter and conversation in the room.

Seymour hung his head down for a moment and replied, "I will come after a while. I want you to have ample time alone with your family... I sense that they are uneasy around me."

"Thank you for being so understanding Seymour." She thanked him quietly.

He nodded. Inside he did not know what emotion to feel about what he was going to do. He needed to do alot of detailed research and study, he must never botch this. Under the table, his fists balled. Kinoc, what could he do to him, what would be going too far...? Already he had confirmed and replied a letter from Maester Kelk and Mika this morning. Kinoc would have to serve punishment.

But it was obviously not sufficient for Seymour. He wanted personal revenge. He had had enough with Kinoc, and had disliked him ever since. Now, he _hated_ him. He wanted to bludgeon him to death, preferably after cruel and inhumane torture. Could he control himself and resist the urge to kill Kinoc?

"Seymour, you're not going to-" Began Yuna, with a sad expression on her cute face.

"No, I won't break my oath to you. Besides, it is against the law. Kinoc has already been dealt with by Maester Kelk. He has been sent not to the dungeons, but the maze filled with fiends beneath. For two days and nights. The place is called the Via Purifico." He would not upset her further. Her fearing him again was the very last dreaded thing he wanted on Spira.

"... I see."

As a child, she had heard stories of that maze. Where the doomed would go to. When people died in that pit, they would change into fiends, because no one would be there to send them. Even if defeated, the fiends would temporarily change back into pyre flies and then congeal into a physical fiend again, reborn.

Being able to survive was the mark of unmatchable dogged endurance, and even if you were a law breaker, that feat in itself deserved respect.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

In the morning, Yuna awoke to see Seymour reclining on the cushioned maroon velvet daybed across the chamber. His intense deep blue eyes on her, unmoving. "Good morning." He said softly.

Yuna covered her mouth as she yawned, and she rubbed her eyes, then stretched. "Don't you need to be at your office?"

Seymour did not get up but turned his head to the side, his eyes still on hers. "I wanted to see my wife get ready and leave. Surely you are not denying me this privilege?" The corner of his mouth rose in a smirk.

"You pervert!" Joked Yuna, walking across the moss carpet of the room to her husband. She pushed him in jest, before taking a soft towel from the cabinet, and turning into the adjoining marble bathroom to take a refreshing shower.

She met him outside, where the tinkling song of birds greeting the new day could be heard. Seymour led her by her arm to the chocobo carriage waiting for her. He turned to her and held her firmly by her shoulders, she was again wearing her usual clothes for the hot weather on Besaid. He told her, "The driver will take you to the docks, and then you will go by yacht directly to Besaid."

Yuna smiled, and stood on tip-toe to whisper privately into his ear, "I'll miss you."

"I will too," he breathed. "Very much." The last part was not for Yuna to hear.

Standing on the gravel path in front of his manor, he watched his Yuna leave in the carriage, the dappled spots of bright sunlight shining off it. He thought to himself that he had done the right thing, she would be able to recover in her homeland with her guardians, and he would be able to work as usual in the office, and after his class, he would be able to work secretly in Macalania temple.

'So much to do.' He thought self-critically.

At his quiet and orderly office, of all the numerous and long-winded letters, only one was of interest and of true importance to him. It was a report from one of the heads in charge pertaining to the summoner disappearance investigation.

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"Sir, if I may ask... why would you require a desk and alchemist's and medical devices in your personal temple prayer room?" Asked Priest Wenex, after bowing and was presently standing to attention before the proud High Priest of Macalania.

"That is my business and mine alone Wenex." Replied Seymour drily, his gaze casually directed on something else in the freezing-cold temple.

"I-I see Lord Seymour." Replied Wenex, before hurrying on his way to have the requested items ordered and delivered.

Wenex in general was a man who minded his own business, not bothering or caring about the affairs of others. But even he was curious about Maester Seymour's orders. "Why on Spira would he need those? Syringes and distillers?" He spoke to himself as he tramped along.

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It was wonderful to be back. Open blue skies with rolling clouds, and shining white sandy beaches. The sound of the cool surf and crashing waves, the smell of salt water coming in from the sea. Different from the silent and sheltered forest of Guadosalam, where the skies could only be seen through the leaves.

"Yuna! Yu...u.. na!" Came a familiar voice from the shore.

On the bobbing yacht, Yuna put her hand over her forehead so that she could see in the sunshine. Far away she saw a little figure waving madly on the dazzling beach. She smiled realising the identity of the person. Tidus, who else? Before long, he had dived into the water, and had started swimming to her.

"Yuna! How you been?!" Yelled Tidus, breaking the surface of the crystal blue water. "You look kinda pale..."

Yuna laughed at him, the boat was looming dangerously close. The captain at the stern only shook his head wearily at the antics of the young man.

"I've been fine!" Waved Yuna. "Maybe because there's not so much sun back at Guadosalam. How are Lulu, Wakka and Kimahri?"

Trying and failing to board the yacht as it approached the small dock at Besaid, Tidus replied, blinking salt water from his eyes and looking up. "They're good. Wakka and the Aurochs are taking a break now. You know, Auron dropped by the other day!"

"He did?" Asked Yuna, delighted that Sir Auron was still in touch.

"Yeah um... Listen, I think the guys could tell you more later."

Yuna's expression changed. "Did something happen?"

The captain signalled that it was all right for her and the other passengers to alight the small yacht. Yuna stepped onto the wooden dock, while Tidus sopping wet climbed onto it, leaving footprints on the dry sun-bleached wood.

Tidus scratched the back of his head, "Nothing did, it was some hare-brained instruction Auron gave us..." He shrugged. "I guess I shouldn't have got into the water huh? Now I can't hug you."

Yuna smiled and only shook her head at that remark.

On the beach, the Aurochs waved at her welcoming her back home. Wakka said he would join them all for dinner, like what they always did in the past. Squinting in the light, Yuna happily waved back at them.

At the little town of Besaid, Lulu greeted Yuna warmly outside her felt tent. "Yuna, I was so worried about you."

Hugging Lulu back Yuna said, "I've missed you all at Besaid."

"Uh Lulu?" Began Tidus hesitantly. "Tell her about what Auron said."

Lulu turned her blood-red eyes to him and scowled momentarily at his poor timing for things. "Yuna, you should take a nap first and rest before dinner. Kimahri has been taking care of your tent."

Yuna asked, "It's nothing serious is it?"

Lulu led her to where her tent was in the scorching sun and shook her head once. "No, just unexpected. Rest first okay?" She said in her slow alto voice.

"Kimahri!" Squealed Yuna excitedly, running to his massive dark blue form and hugging him.

"Kimahri happy Yuna come home." He rumbled, holding a feather duster in his paw. "Come back for visit?"

"Yes." Said Yuna, smiling up at his craggy and rugged face.

When Yuna had released him, Kimahri said, "Kimahri go fishing now."

Yuna thought she saw his dark blue shoulders slump slightly when Tidus said he would tag along to go fishing too. ("Kimahri! Let's go catch whale fish!")

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Back at Seymour's office in Guadosalam, Seymour finished reading the letter. The report was that many of the missing summoners were rumoured to be kept by an unknown Al Bhed group, supposedly somewhere on a desert island.

The report also mentioned that only the most promising summoners were kidnapped. He leaned back in his chair thinking. Perhaps Yuna was not a risk at all then...

Folding the white letter, he stowed it in the drawer of his wooden desk. He frowned, and headed for Macalania temple.

There he surreptitiously locked himself in his private prayer room and looked around at the new things he called for. Against the cold hard stone wall was a large wooden desk and a chair. Perpendicular to it, alchemist's equipment. On the flat brown desk were the books he had ordered. All these objects would end his personal suffering. It would help him become emotionless, without sharp opinion or tempestuous character... but still with a body of flesh and coursing blood.

His heart uncertain, his hands unsteady he sat himself at the table. He began to study and review again the properties of pyre flies. He could afford no mistakes. None at all. The treatment would be very painful, but he had to do it.

Even while alone, his face showed no emotion although he was suffering from immeasurable anxiety and monumentally searing emotional pain. While he leafed through the book, he could not cease thinking about his Yuna. Oh sweet pain, so close and yet so far.

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"So Kimahri, how long have you been fishing since? Like, how many years I mean?"

The unlikely and incompatible pair sat on a peeling branch, hanging over a deep lagoon some distance away from the beach.

Kimahri shook his head and did not answer. He got up nimbly, and with his fishing rod edged away from the talkative Tidus. Kimahri insightfully suspected that the fish were not biting because Tidus kept stirring the water, and talking needlessly. Thereby scaring them away.

"The last time I went fishing was when I was a little kid..." Continued the teen, looking up at the pale clouds.

The Ronso's fur which was previously standing on end flattened in relief, when he realised that Tidus was not going to follow him to his new spot. Sighing, he cast his line and watched it plop into the water.

"Sure helps pass the time huh?"

Kimahri nodded lethargically in response, then his feline ears pricked when he felt his fishing pole twitch in his paws. As he reeled it in, the catch struggled.

"Whoa nice one Kimahri!" Cheered Tidus enthusiastically from across the lagoon.

With the sharp hook still attached to its gaping mouth, the strange fish flapped rapidly on the grass. Kimahri leant forward examining his catch, his tail waving expressing his interest. It was long, thin and slimy, almost like an eel of some type.

"That's one ugly fish man! What is it?"

"Is not dinner." Came the short and simple reply, as the Ronso threw the thing back.

About half an hour later, (a silent half hour to Kimahri's relief) the two had caught a pair of grey whale fish and a red popper.

Tidus did a back-flip on the short grass, and punched the air laughing. He was pleased that he was able to make himself useful for once, usually he caught nothing.

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"Wake up sleepy head." Said Lulu, prodding Yuna.

The former summoner yawned and murmured, "What time is it?"

"Time for dinner." Answered Lulu, sitting on the edge of Yuna's bed. Lulu gently lifted the colourful woven blanket off her adopted little sister.

Smiling through bleary eyes, Yuna asked "I've been asleep that long?"

"Mm hmm." Came the patient affirmative reply.

Dinner was always at Wakka's tent. Although the brawny blitzer did not look the part for the play, he cooked rather well. Yuna recalled his trademark quote: "For a blitzer to be at his best, he's got to eat good."

At a place like Besaid, dinner was slow and languid. Everyone at the little town would eat at the same time with their tents open, the bonfire at the centre of the area lit, providing light and warmth. The ambience was of soft contented chatter, clinking cups and cutlery with occasional soft laughter.

Yuna certainly felt at home, there was so much nostalgia and familiarity. The dark blue sky, and the orange flames of the "camp" fire. Remembering suddenly she asked, "What was it that Sir Auron said?"

Wakka turned to her and replied, "Well, he said that we should train ya?" He said softly, "... he said that we're going to bring a calm that will last forever..."

Yuna, speechless looked at Lulu.

"I don't know much on what he's thinking either." Said Lulu honestly, sipping her warm tea.

"But I promised Seymour that I will not continue with my pilgrimage." Said Yuna apprehensively.

Tidus shrugged and explained what he knew, "Well, he did mention that nobody's gonna die on this. Including you Yuna."

"Eternal calm... and I won't be dying...?" Mused Yuna, her interest sparked with her fine hand on her chin in thought. "How on Spira..."

"Well, I'm just as confused as you ya? Guess we gotta wait for Sir Auron to come back..." Wakka absent-mindedly chewed on a piece of soft fish. "In the mean, Sir Auron said that we gotta train alot."

Tidus put a slice of whale fish between two pieces of toasted bread and passed it to Yuna. He made a face and said, "He said there'll be lots of fighting involved... We thought about the 'how' factor alot too. But he didn't tell us anything. As usual."

**End Of Chapter Fifteen**

••••••••••••••

This chapter is dedicated to:

**Lucrecia LeVrai**: Of whom added me into the C2 thing millions of

years ago, and of which stupid me only noticed a few days before.

**Eine Kliene Katze**: Of whom I forgot to thank & mention last time. slaps self silly

**Darkangel Guard**: Who made sure I didn't get sloppy or BORING.

&

**Necrosame**

••••••••••••••

My affection to **ALL** you readers and reviewers! Now, since I've moved the story along already, _give me suggestions on what you peeps want to see more of_!! (I reckon we can afford to side-track abit...)

• Romance?

• Action/violence?

• Cultures of Spira? (e.g. Guado, Ronso, Yevonite... Hypello...?)

• Angst?

• Teacher-student interaction?

Tell me what you'd like, and I'll see what I can do. Just as long as the story doesn't go out of point... I'll do it!

Send me via review or private message...


	16. Alchemy: Absence Gives Fondness

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X Fan-fic

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

--

About three long and monotonous days had passed since Seymour had sent Yuna back to her beloved homeland. He wondered wistfully how she was doing... was she smiling and laughing again? Was she all right, was she as merry as usual?

Not that it would matter for long because he would be dead and mindless soon. Still, his beautiful wife was constantly on his mind. How could he not think of her? He was missing her desperately, her scent. In the nights it was reassuring to him, that steady and calm gentleness she had. That she hated no one or anything, so sweet and with incomparable compassion.

He wished that by now Yuna would have recovered fully from Kinoc's stupidly bold indecent assault. His quick temper was roused just thinking about it, she was more than likely scarred for life. She was too young to have experienced something as horrific as that. Seymour knew what was it like, to be stiflingly helpless without the power to do anything but watch as horror happened right before one's eyes.

He had failed to protect her, he was no better than his accursed esteemed father. He shivered inwardly and closed his eyes in self-disgust. He felt that he should have corporeal punishment for this. She experienced this at seventeen. He, even before he was ten. The image of his poor mother in pain and suffering grudgingly came into his maladjusted mind.

In his orderly office he rubbed his forehead, pushing the unwanted thought away. In only three short days he already had a rough idea of what technique he would be using for his elaborate and complicated suicide. He uttered a brief 'bye' to the busy clerk when he walked past to leave.

When he went back home to the royal manor, he summoned Tromell.

"You called for my assistance master Seymour?" Inquired his oldest green-haired butler, bowing before him. As always his conservative and traditional Guado's garb neat and clean.

Seymour stated calmly. "Order a high-end body-composition scale, three warp spheres and five black magic spheres."

Tromell paused for a moment in mild surprise before returning, "As you wish Lord Seymour."

Seymour swept past him, and went to the library. He could sense Tromell was slightly suspicious, but he could always count on him to never question or interrogate, and to be consistently obedient.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

It was during high noon that the crimson living legend returned to the island of Besaid.

"You know Auron?" Asked Tidus, sitting at the edge of the simple dock and watching the beautiful aquatic scenery, with his legs folded, "You gotta stop doing that man! Sneaking up on people from the back and scaring the heck out of them!"

"I've been your mentor for the past ten years. This is the first time you've complained." He said, adjusting his oval black sunglasses.

"So... you gonna tell us your plan?" Tidus wondered, looking up at his aloof elder. "You know they're really excited about this. I mean, Sin has been around like... forever. Think we can do this?"

"I don't think. I _know_." Came the sure reply. "Have you been training?"

"Yeah, sort of." Shrugged Tidus, swinging his legs over the ebbing clear water non-seriously. He indicated that he had been training hard in the late morning earlier, by faithfully patting his sword 'The Brotherhood' which was next to him.

"Any better?"

"Tons. I learnt a new overdrive." The blond teen jutted his chin out proudly.

Before he knew it, Auron had the point of his smoke-burnt katana two inches from the teen's stunned face. "Show me." He growled disbelievingly.

Tidus fumbled in surprise with his sword, and raised it to strike Auron. But before he lifted his weapon very far, his elder fiercely parried the stroke in a powerful blur of steel.

"Whoa!" Screamed Tidus, steadying himself at the solid sound of it, and the tremulous impact that travelled all the way up his arms. "Auron? Go easy on me!"

Auron ignored that plea, raised his heavy sword over his head and brought the thing swiftly down again onto his opponent's. As the blond teen struggled to keep up, Auron was actually quite pleased. He was stronger, and he had improved considerably since the last time. He smirked at the ridiculous fond memory of the boy barely being able to lift a sword.

"You know, you gotta teach me how you do that man!" Huffed Tidus, stepping back and avoiding a fast swing from Auron's long and broad blade. There were a few people watching the match already from a wisely safe distance from the beach.

"How are the others?" Asked Auron nonplussed, at the same time his heavy weapon was unsteadily parried by an already sweating Tidus.

Tidus yelped and tried another unsuccessful strike at his mentor, replying in a panicked tone in contrast to Auron's. "Lulu has been-"

_Whack_

"-doing her Besaid clothing and magic! Wakka-"

_WHACK_

"... with blitzball and training with me."

_Whoosh_

"Kimahri's been fishing and fiend fighting-" Tidus backed away, holding out his palm showing that he had all the wind knocked out of him as he caught his breath. "And Yuna's back here for a visit..." He finished.

"Good." Replied Auron. Turning around and leaving.

Tidus shook his head confused, unsure if it was a compliment for his fighting, or that he was happy that Yuna was back. He looked at his free hand and wiggled his aching fingers, they still felt numb from the wild vibrations he felt from blocking Auron's strikes.

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In his cold private prayer room at Macalania Seymour sat before his rectangular desk. He turned to look at his assorted equipment, four different solutions were being distilled. So far so good. It was all going smoothly, more so than he had imagined. Fitfully, he clenched his large fists as he watched the various coloured distillates falling, drop by drop into the glass beakers.

One of the components he needed had already finished its distillation process. The other three still required mixing, while another needed time to stand. Now he was carefully pouring the clear transparent purple liquid from the glass collecting beaker, and into a glass vial for keeping.

The frigid prayer room with grey and blue tiles was quickly becoming his lab. After he replaced the vial's crystal stopper, he meticulously held it up to the light and read from one the books as reference. Yes! It was exactly like the book's description, word for every bloody word. He slammed the book shut in twisted triumph, his breath condensing on the air as it escaped from his mouth. He ran his fingers through his cobalt hair as he tossed his head, narrowing his eyes.

Now, he would test this on himself. His blue eyes wandered to one of the syringes on his desk. If he had done this endeavour wrongly it would be poison. It was why he had an antidote and remedy on standby. If he had done this right, then he would just simply feel disoriented for awhile. To be so close to death he twitched, this feeling felt so familiar.

He picked up the syringe and looked at it with apparent indifference. He then dipped the nozzle of the syringe into the beaker and drew up the liquid. After placing the shining needle onto the syringe, with random precision he jammed the sharp silver needle through his expensive satin clothing, and into the skin of his forearm. Ignoring the slight pain the half-Guado dispassionately pressed down the plunger.

The effect was immediate, Seymour weakly pulled out the thick needle from his soft flesh. Maybe he should have checked what dosage he could have used with the body-composition scale. His heart palpated like a drum, his vision swam and became hopelessly blurred, in his ears he heard a disturbing humming. He closed his eyes from the spasms circulating through his wretched body, limply he collapsed heavily forward onto the desk.

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It was after dinner, later into the night. Yuna was alone in her tent. An eternal calm, without the summoner dying...? Sleep was eluding her, because her unsettled mind refused any rest.

After a thousand years of being terrorised by Sin, it sounded too good to be true. How could it be? If it did not come from Sir Auron it would be considered absurd and completely impossible.

She could hear the soft sounds of other villagers settling in for the night through the thick patterned textile of her tent.

Of course she wanted to go! But she had promised Seymour not to. But... it was different now, wasn't it? She would not be dying, and for this case Sin would not come back. What if he did not believe her, would he suddenly just do as he originally planned?

Kill Spira to save it.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

In Seymour's lab, through chronic disorientation and great laborious breathing, he thought of her. He felt as though his very head was unhinged or altogether missing! His eyes snapped open as he quested for air, his dry and torrid mouth gaping as wide as it could go, a distinct sign of extreme distress in a Guado.

If Pescal or Tromell could see him now, Tromell would panic and send for a doctor while Pescal would immediately run for phoenix down.

In his head he saw Yuna. The image of her laughing playfully tortured him, lacerating and cutting into him like hot shards of broken glass. In the empty void of white nothingness she was standing there, with her brunette head cocked to one side, her small hands clasped together, and her expression of coquettish mischief. He gripped her by the waist and gazed down at her porcelain face. Because of his height it was difficult to kiss her luscious lips, and when he keenly tried to pull her her close to do so, she teasingly pushed him away and laughed, wriggling out of his desperate embrace and running away as if it were nothing more than a game to her.

Although he smashed his fist onto the hard wooden desk he felt nothing because of what he had introduced into his bloodstream. There was no need to stifle his harrowing screams, the monks and priests of his temple knew about his occasional emotional episodes and learnt how to be silent about them.

In Seymour's mind he gave despairing chase to her, but she always remained out of reach to his vexation, her melodious laughs resounding in his ears.

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Still lying on her bed, Yuna knew he still saw living as something painful. If only she could persuade him, then after that, would she be able to negotiate with him to come to an agreement? Would he let her go and stop Sin?

She would have to do this carefully, otherwise his fierce passion and temper would flare.

She sighed and sat up on her bed. Yuna could not sleep with all these thoughts on her mind, she definitely needed to take a stroll on the beach.

The night at the shore always helped her think better. The gentle scenery was dominated by blue, with the cool moonlight shining down onto the rolling waves. The quiet roar as they fell onto the sandy shore and crept back into the sea.

Outside, she settled down on the cool sand. She thought about her talk with Sir Auron while her guardians were not listening.

"Sir Auron, I know. There is no final Aeon." She said, suspicious and confused at the same time.

Although Auron had refused to enlighten Yuna and her guardians of the truth, his intention of wanting them to discover the shocking truth by themselves at Zanarkand was insightfully decoded by Yuna.

"Your husband told you I presume?" He asked, not surprised.

"Yes. Sin returns after killing the summoner, and absorbs the final aeon as its new armour. Which is actually one of the summoner's former guardians. Explaining the strict need and rule for a summoner to have at least one guardian. The calm is actually the time taken for Yu Yevon to re-create this new armour." Yuna had her brows uncharacteristically furrowed, her face serious and discerning. "How will we-"

"Your father had two guardians. I was not the final aeon." Grated Auron, his voice rougher than normal.

"Meaning Sir Jecht was-!" Gasped Yuna, looking down for a moment as dawning of realisation hit her. If there was any of Sir Jecht left in that monster they might have an edge.

"Yes, and we will have to fight him and then destroy Yu Yevon. Before that, we will have to send Yunaleska first, because she will do everything in her power to stop us."

"But Sir Auron, if we kill Lady Yunaleska... we will become traitors to Yevon!"

"We must for the ever-lasting calm. This was planned by Jecht and myself ten years ago."

Her mind back to reality, Yuna gazed up at the moon now half hidden by wispy clouds in the night sky. There were no stars out tonight in the rich dark blue sky. The plan now was just to train and to get stronger in battle, for that final fight. She then thought about Seymour, and hoped that he would be coming to visit her soon.

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Seymour pounded the desk as his body recovered from the last of the tremors. 'Still alive.' He thought dispassionately to himself, laying both of his palms onto the flat surface of the table he pushed himself onto his rocky feet.

He walked unsteadily to where his distillers were and picked up the beakers, placing them on a triangular heating plate that would keep the sinister substances from freezing in the sub-zero temperature of his prayer room.

It was, he assumed, already late into the night. He closed the door to his room, and locked it before he headed for home limping. There would be no need to disguise his limp, because no one was likely awake in the manor to see him in this deplorable state.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Done with her night walk, she returned noiselessly to her tent. All alone without the assurance of Seymour's presence, she felt open and vulnerable. She could almost hear his velvet tenor voice speaking to her softly, like what they sometimes did before they fell asleep. Asking about her day, asking her if she were well and if there was anything she wanted or needed. She found his devotion and tenacious affection very touching.

Pulling her blanket over her body, she thought about how he looked at her always. His eyes so steady and searching... seeking for her approval, sincere... and yet at the same time so vulnerable and unguarded. His watery blue eyes expressed and revealed to her everything, although his face was composed and serious. He would smile with his eyes, or pout with them, and even emotions as complex as secret unvoiced jealousy could be betrayed in those aquamarine depths.

She shivered as she recollected the night Kinoc tried to rape her. When she was weak with terror, her mouth silenced by magic, her screams completely noiseless. While her strength became almost non-existant, her heart cried urgently out for Seymour, and there he appeared snatching her from Kinoc's grubby hands.

She called to mind when in the fast moving carriage, how he tenderly cradled her on his lap, when she tried to sit on the seat he held fast to her whispering that everything was all right, and began to unfasten his vest. When she looked up questioningly at him, his gentlemanly voice intoned, "You are in need of comfort."

He put his sizeable hand onto the side of her smooth face, and delicately pressed her head to his chest so that she may listen to his soothing heartbeat. Hugging her, he spoke benevolently to put her at ease, she felt the sensation of his vocal chords vibrating in his chest while his chin was resting on the top of her head...

In her tent in Besaid that night, Yuna fell asleep with a soft smile on her face.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

In the afternoon at forested Guadosalam Seymour stood with his class. He awoke just in time, he detested being late. He still could feel the after-effects of the potent distillate that he had injected into himself, he momentarily swayed on the spot as if he were drunk.

"Good afternoon Maester Seymour!" His lively and ignorant students cried.

"Good afternoon class." He replied in his usual manner. "Today as I promised, we will be going on a little excursion to the fiend stables."

His little charges jumped up and down, letting out unrestrained cries of joy and bursting excitement. He watched them, admiring their honesty in expression.

"My elder brother works there! He's a handler!" Whooped one.

He would like to be that way, but something stopped him. Instead he remained controlled and professional at all times, maintaining his flawless facade. He was shy in a way that was not obvious to Spira.

"I want to see the bombs! I like how they float!" Chirped another.

Seymour raised his hands and reprimanded firmly yet gently, "Now, we leave. Fall in line."

"Teacher? Where's lady Yuna?" Asked Aria innocently, who was holding hands with Mirin whilst they followed their teacher and leader.

The Maester felt his heart sorrowfully wrench at the mention of his wife's name. He replied without turning around, "She is at her homeland for a visit. Besaid."

Mirin asked, "Teacher, when will she be coming back?"

Heshmal said from the back of the two younglings, "Lady Yuna is so nice!"

"I miss her."

Seymour opened his mouth and hesitated for a split second in his response, continuing to stride forward. "She will return by and by." In his mind he whispered 'I miss her too.'

It was not a very long walk, just a path that was unfamiliar to the young ones as Seymour had very seldom led them down it before. The went through a grove of tall woods and down a light gravel path. Seymour stopped in front of a tall arching structure made of granite rock that read, "Artemia's Stables."

Already standing there was a fiend tamer, in a rugged leather talmek and a short, thick silk linen overcoat. He bowed and said, "Lord Seymour. We have been expecting you and your class."

"It is all mutual I assure you Mesmir." Returned Seymour, nodding his head once. He turned around to see many expectant little veined faces and announced, "My young ones, you have permission to roam." He watched them attentively as they ran off.

Mesmir smoothed his black hair and resumed, "Will your younglings be learning how to speak to fiends?"

"Yes. They will at least learn the basic skills. Although not all of them have come of age yet." Confirmed Maester Seymour. "But I must insist that they not be exposed to such violence of taming a fiend, they are too young."

"Yes Lord Seymour." Agreed the tamer.

Seymour walked past the handler, and then towards the stables. Which were actually hollowed out from living trees. Half his class was in this dual horn's stable. The hulking fiend was lying on its front in its straw bedding, with its beady eyes closed, happily purring gruffly with six younglings clambering all over its stocky body.

He watched them as a handler sitting on a wooden bench carved out of the tree spoke to his little charges.

"Young ones, good that you can already soothe my fiend here." Said the Handler, "Can you feel what he would like?"

They replied using action, by rubbing the dual horn's ribs, causing the beast to wiggle its short triangular ears contentedly. Fiend lovers would say that the creature was smiling.

Aria looked at Mirin and they both laughed cheekily. "He says he's always hungry."

The red-haired handler replied, "He's fat. So I have him on a diet."

Seymour watched proudly from a distance, even at this age it came so easy for them. To just communicate to the fiend in clear emotions, and empathy. For him he had to try a little harder, but he still had the gift of doing so. He thought about the behemoth that cared for him back at the frigid and lonely island of Baaj.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Immediately after the field trip, Seymour once again sat in his private prayer room. Again in front of his dark lacquered desk he was, but this time with a keen stainless-steel scalpel. His hand quaking vigourously, he brought it to the skin of his inner arm but then before the blade made contact, he shuddered and drew his hand away. He shook his head.

No! He had to do this, to end his pain!

Cursing at his weakness, he bared his teeth and with trepidation poked the pointy instrument into his white skin. Ignoring his natural instincts that were screaming at him to stop, corrupted with warped philosophy he shoved the keen scalpel deeper into his tissue and twisted it. The sharp pain made him wince, and he began to bleed, the droplets of blood falling like crimson petals of an exotic flower.

He let out a final groan, as he dug out a piece of his flesh. Sweating even though it was so cold in his room, he laid the bloody piece onto the body-composition scale. As the scale gave its measurement, Seymour took a potion and shakily drank it.

**End Of Chapter Sixteen**

•••••••••

This chapter is dedicated to **DeathAngelsEriiko**.

Who did the ULTIMATE morale booster.

Fan-Art _for_ Fan-fiction. It's a pic of Seymour and his students napping in the field by the bubbling brook.

Here's the link:

Chairoi-Kami-Lynn./art/Negotiation-Persuasion-c9s4-90586565

In case the link doesn't work, the title is:

Negotiation Persuasion c9s4

Look for it on Deviant Art dot com.

••••••••••••••

My affection and deep gratitude to those who reviewed:

Darkangel Guard, Necro-san, Frailyn, ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ, and the _anonymous_ fellow who too voted for more romance!! (Who doesn't like fluff?)


	17. Old Friend & Unwelcome Visitor

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X fan-fic

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

--

It was a relatively sunny day at Artemia's Stables. Above the crowded canopy, white clouds rolled in the bright blue sky. Seymour was there speaking with Mesmir when a young handler with dull brown hair appeared and bowed quickly. "My Lord, you may not remember me but I once called you teacher."

"You were in my first class, eight years ago." Seymour brushed his knuckles against his former student's in warm greeting. "Salveg, I remember. I saw you at the incident at Moonflow. You handle your fiends very well. I am most proud."

Salveg humbly looked up and bowed again. "Late for me to say but, congratulations on your wedding Sir."

Seymour shifted uncomfortably and changed the subject. "How are the rest?"

Salveg told him that the rest were doing well, two were into agriculture, a few were in the army, one was into tree dwelling construction/growing and the last two had become professional blitzball players.

"I saw them at the tournament, in Luca. Zazi and Navara for the Guado Glories." Seymour mentioned.

"Yes Sir. I believe I have kept you long enough Lord Seymour." His ex-student bowed again. "We have missed you Sir, and only after we matured did we realise what an honour it is to have been taught by you."

"As have I, like how every good Guado tutor loves his or her students." Seymour stated, connecting his knuckles with his former student. Touched by the young man's smell of sincerity, he gave a diminutive smile to Salveg.

Salveg smiled back and nodded, before apologising to his superior Mesmir. Then he jogged off to resume his duties.

"Please, do not hand out any penalty to him. He was one of my more complicated students." Although the words sounded like a conventional request, it was in reality an order. Seymour's status demanded it.

"I wouldn't be able to find it in my conscience to do so my lord." Said Mesmir. "My Lord, you have been smelling off lately. I ask this not as your subordinate, but as your friend and acquaintance. What disturbs you?"

"Is my distress obvious?" Seymour inquired, keeping his eyes occupied on something far away.

"No." Came the short but honest reply.

"You do know me better than most then. I miss my wife." He returned, not telling Mesmir everything.

Mesmir looked at him, sizing him up. Trying to unveil what was going on beneath the expressionless unmoving surface. "I find it rather sudden for your interest in the manipulation of pyre files, and old knowledge of aeons. Do you wish to restore Baaj temple?"

"No. No one shall have my aeon. Did you have to remind me of what I did to that place?" Seymour asked, unsettled. The wind was blowing gently through the trees, making the emerald green leaves in the trees rustle and whisper.

"Forgive me my liege. But my question remains unanswered. What is it that disturbs your grace?"

"I miss my wife." Seymour repeated simply, turning to face Mesmir his eyes eerily unwavering.

Mesmir nodded once, looking away in an instant. "You are a very convincing liar sir. But now I shall exceed my boundaries and pry. _Seymour." _Mesmir addressed him, "We were friends ever since we were younglings, and we were reunited as friends again when you returned from Baaj. I know you are hurting even though you mask it so well." Mesmir turned his pale face with striking black veins to face his leader and old friend.

"I am."

"From what? Your promise to Lady Yuna that you shall not destroy Spira?"

"Yes." Was the half-lie from Seymour, still refusing to look away from Mesmir's black pit-less eyes.

"So much the better Seymour, I promised you years ago that I'd kill you if you went ahead with your plan." Mesmir looked away regrettably, his tone hushed as he swallowed. "I'm glad that your wife calms you. I was convinced that you were incapable of love of any type. My elder son Lasder, as you know is in her choir, he comments she has a very gentle character... Forgive me for my rudeness my Lord, I shan't pry any more."

"You have my gratitude Mesmir." Seymour fluidly changed the subject, "Now. Shall we resume what we were discussing earlier?"

"Yes my liege. Your older students can start learning sending dances if they show an interest."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Training in the steaming jungle. The least experienced learnt that the worst times to do so were during noon. When the boiling sun was shining down directly onto them in all its glorious heat, like a blow torch.

"I'm sweating like an idiot." Said Tidus, wiping his damp palms onto his shorts so that he could hold his glittering sword more steadily.

"Concentrate." Scolded Auron. His eyes trained on the fuming wild ochu about a dozen feet away. The bad-tempered plant had sensed their presence and woke up. It did not appear remotely happy at that. (No being on Spira enjoys being woken unceremoniously and startled from sleep, _including_ fiends.) It was waving its purple and green vines agitatedly, as if it was attempting to swat away an annoyance hovering above its gigantic open mouth.

Wakka was spinning his spiked ball on the tip of his finger, as usual confident. He was watching for an opportunity to inflict darkness onto the angry creature.

In the back row Yuna was with Lulu, calm and focused. As do all magicians need be in order to cast their magic. Yuna had just started to attempt to cast Holy a few days ago. Lulu told her wisely that she should practice the advanced spell more before she used it in a serious battle. (At least as serious as the one they were in now.)

The ochu screeched like metal scraping against rock and attacked Tidus, of whom for some reason it had a specific annoyance for. The fact that it missed only made the plant angrier, Tidus was getting very fast in battle. He learnt that if he could not be as strong as Auron, he could be fast, nimble and-

"You're really jumpy brudda!" Commended Wakka, throwing his ball into the rotund fiend's side, causing the thing to scream and lash out.

Auron flourished his blade and ran forward, stabbing the ochu. It did what he wanted it to, the fiend went bright red with berserk. He could have easily finished it off by running it through, literally. (One of his famous trademark moves, with his blade still within a large fiend's body he would keep stepping onwards, cleaving its body wide open.) For today, he would not. He wanted to leave the fiend to the other guardians for training.

Now the entire party had protect cast onto them, Yuna stately waved her staff and focused. While Lulu with her black magic burnt one of the creature's sweeping vines she encouraged Yuna, "Good. Keep that up."

"Ow!" Yelled Wakka in the heat of the sun, taking a hit from the fiend. Tidus admired his formidable stamina to take hits and just keep going. If it were him, he would be laying on the dirt path now.

The only one who was not participating in the fight was Kimahri. He was withdrawn and standing on top of a crumbling ancient pillar, part of the ruins that dotted the sunny (and at the moment terribly humid) island as a quiet spectator. The blond pup was making progress, and he approved.

Auron, with his heavy katana on his shoulder, jerked his greying head and groaned inside when he saw Tidus taunt the unhappy writhing fiend.

"Hey! You want a piece of me? You want a piece of me?!"

Yuna laughed and healed Wakka with a light gesture of her staff, while Lulu scoffed exasperatedly.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Yuna was worried. Ten days had already passed and Seymour still had not come. There was something wrong. It was during dinner time, and today they were having it in Lulu's tent. On a small wooden shelf were her mage's dolls sitting neatly, staring forward with their blank glassy eyes. One was helping Lulu set the table, it was holding a clean celadon plate above its round stuffed head and toddling over to the solid wooden table.

"Yuna, you okay?" Asked Wakka, scratching his head and looking at her. She was sitting on the rug with everyone, staring off into the abyss.

"Oh I'm just worried about Seymour. He's supposed to be here." She answered softly, looking up at her adopted and concerned brother.

"Yuna, you know last time I saw you this worried was when you were deciding if or not you wanted to be a summoner." Said Wakka, "I think you miss Maester Seymour ya?"

Yuna's face reddened and she nodded meekly, looking down at her food. "I think I'll send him a letter to see if he's okay."

"Don't worry, you do just that." Said Lulu, holding one of her black magic dolls.

"I will." Smiled Yuna.

"Maybe he doesn't even care about you." Said Tidus offhandedly, looking across the fully laden table at Yuna. He immediately received a hard slap in the back of his head from Wakka.

Kimahri only wordlessly shook his blue feline head.

That cutting statement had hurt Yuna. "Tidus! Don't say that, he's really nice!" She said indignantly, clearly offended.

Ignoring obvious warning looks from everybody the impulsive blond resumed. "How would you know?"

"Because he's my husband." That stern answer silenced her newest guardian, and it surprised even quiet Kimahri who looked up from the table in interest.

Tidus leered and shook his head. "Yuna you okay? That guy's weird!"

Yuna got up from the table and left, leaving everybody else to glare at Tidus in a general direction. ("What?")

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

'Almost complete now...' The half-Guado sat alone in Macalania temple within his silent prayer room, looking blankly at his equipment. He had finished with the distillates, after that, there would be only a few more essentials to get. There was one _last_ liquid distillate to test on himself.

This one, unlike the previous other three required him to drink it. He held the bottle of it in his hand, watching the thick liquid as it ran. He decided he had best test this one at home. It was a morphing type of potion, it would not do at all if something went terribly wrong, and if he were seen in public.

On the way home in the dancing and swirling snow he thought of Yuna again. No need to go to her homeland to fetch her back here. It would only prolong his accursed suffering.

At the threshold of his manor, his huge hand easily covered the crystal bottle from the eyes of Pescal and Tromell. Nodding at them as they greeted him, he walked past them and went into his lonely quarters, as if it were just another ordinary uneventful day.

Before the heavy door of his room closed shut, he uncorked the small glass bottle and stoically gulped down its revolting contents. He went to the maroon daybed and sat himself down onto it, waiting for the effects to take place. Seymour thought about what else would he need. A tonberry's cudgel and lamp.

Admiring the light falling in through the window, he reclined as if he suddenly had no more backbone, removing his shoes and laying them aside on the mossy floor. He was a bundle of raw nerves, he breathed through his open mouth. He closed his eyes and began to meditate, stilling his mind. Then, the dreams began.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"My Lord?" Came a voice from outside the room, echoing slightly in the hall.

Seymour was still on the same spot, not having moved since. He was trembling, feeling very cold although it was in the middle of the late afternoon. Mustering as much control as possible, he shook his head and said, "Pescal... leave me."

"Tromell called for me to check on you Sir. He is worried because you have not left your chamber in two days." Beseeched the baritone voice from outside.

Seymour closed his eyes and spoke through his clenched teeth. "I appreciate his concern and yours. Leave me."

Pescal spoke more quietly again, "Please Sir, open the door. I have a letter from Lady Yuna."

Cursing in his mind he retorted, "Slip it under the door." Said the Maester in discomfort clutching tightly the fabric of the piece of furniture he was resting on.

Pescal did as he was told, and bent down to push the letter through. He panicked when he heard a loud and dull 'thud' from Seymour's room. "My Lord!"

Pushing himself off from the blue-green moss carpet Seymour spat harshly, "I am fine." He forced himself onto his useless feet and claimed the letter from under the door.

"Lord Seymour, please open the door!" The persuasive voice sounded again from outside.

"Leave me."

"Prithee Sire..." Came Pescal's voice, reverting to Guado's old tongue expressing respect and reverence.

"Wouldest thou dare disobey my orders?" Seymour was being harsher to his man servant than he meant to. It would mean potential ruin if his medic saw him like this, he would know right away that he had ingested something out of the ordinary.

Knowing that Pescal was gone as he heard his servant's dejected footsteps retreating down the stairs, he quivered like a mangy animal left outside in the cold and opened Yuna's letter.

_Dear Seymour,_

_How are you back home? Things at Besaid have not changed at all_

_since I left. The weather here is starting to get wet instead of the usual sunshine._

_The monsoon season is nearby._

_I've been worried about you, when are you coming?_

_Say 'hello' to my choir for me okay? I look forward to coming back_

_home... well if you think I'm well enough._

_Missing you,_

_Yuna_

He flung aside the letter viciously across the room, and covered his face in his cold large hands. Bloody Farplane! Presently he was too distracted by his merciless physical suffering to think clearly. He felt like every nerve in his body was confused and indecisive, unable to choose from feeling pain or numbness. (Although it was already better compared to the madness from the day before.)

In the blurs and shapes of his messed-up mind, he still was sound enough to know that he had better send a reply to her, otherwise she would worry more, and worse still; she would come back here too soon and see him obviously on what looked like drugs.

He entertained himself for a moment with that unexpected thought. Seymour the drug addict. Ha ha. A likely story. He made his way to the small writing table in the corner of the room. He cursed when he could not even hold a pen competently, let alone write with it. He needed some kind of excuse... He looked around the lavish room.

His cerulean eyes wandered over to the innocent empty bottle next to him. It was the bottle that originally held the distillate. With his writing hand, he grabbed it and without much consideration he brought his fist, bottle and all, down onto the hard wooden surface of the table. Shattering it and effectively succeeding in his self-destructive idea.

Then, he showed himself to Tromell and Pescal, requesting one of them to write his letter for him. This way, by the time he went there to Besaid he would have recovered from the effects of the distillate and Yuna would be none the wiser. (Instead of forcing himself to write now, or waiting until he was fit to write. He hated being late in all circumstances, including replying letters.)

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Seymour sat in the manor hall with his right hand pacing palm-up. He told Tromell to send a message to Yuna's choir class. He looked at the penetrating light falling through chinks of frosted and stained glass of the manor windows, making colourful patterns on the marble and rock floor as the trees outside swayed in the wind.

As he left, Tromell shook his head and said, "Very well Sir, I shall send Lady Yuna's regards to them. I do hope that they are doing well under Priest Wenex's tutelage."

Seymour replied just before he left the room, "That would be unlikely Tromell."

Pescal sighed and picked out shards of bloody glass from his master's palm. "Master Seymour, permission to speak?" Seeing Seymour nod he went on. "Is there something wrong, why did you lock yourself in your room?"

"I was asleep, with a fever." Came the stoic Maester's reply, while the shrapnel was carefully pulled out with steel tweezers by his medic. He drew in his breath sharply in a soft hiss, as a larger piece was pulled out.

"Your hand my Lord?" Inquired Pescal, not looking up.

"I was drinking whiskey, and I fell. My hand holding the bottle hit the writing table."

At the mention of alcohol, Pescal looked up at Seymour startled. His purple eyes wide, and then he looked down at his master's mauled hand again. "I see. Are you better now my Lord?"

"I am. Is there paperwork for me to do in the office?"

"There is, I fetched them here, and reported sick on your behalf."

"Excellent." Said the Maester. Covering his mouth as he yawned lethargically. He just felt very tired, as though he had climbed some steep mountain of mythical height.

Wrapping Seymour's hand in clean white bandages Pescal concluded, "Thank you for your compliment Sir, you should rest."

Just then the brass doorbell of the manor chimed. Pescal stood up, "I shall answer the door my Lord." He gently let go of his bandages along with his sterilised medical equipment, and walked across the spacious hall, his footsteps echoing. When he opened the door he was greeted by six small veined faces, looking up at him.

"Hello mister Pescal! Is Maester Seymour here?" Came a demure voice.

"We're here to visit! Is teacher... okay yet?"

Pescal grinned and stepped back from the high doorway, allowing Lord Seymour's students to have an unobstructed view of their pleasantly surprised teacher. Pescal announced, "Master Seymour, your students are here."

"Teacher!"

The five ran to where he was sitting. The sprightly six were Lars, Mirin, Aria, Heshmal, Pogrom and Bramble. Seymour smiled at the sight of them standing around him. He looked up at Pescal while he shut the heavy main door, "Pescal bring tea and biscuits." It was unusual to see them out of their school tunics.

Pescal bowed and replied, "Certainly my Lord."

"Teacher? Why haven't you been at Macalania temple?" Asked Pogrom, bumping his dark brown head onto Seymour's lower shoulder.

"Pogrom, I have not been feeling well and so have not been teaching you all at the temple."

"We're the only ones here because the other stupid parents wouldn't let the rest come." Said Bramble resentfully, climbing onto a chair next to Seymour. The rest sat themselves down at the table as well, smiling up at their teacher.

"Bramble," Seymour said patiently, "mind your language. Apologise."

Bramble stubbornly shook his head and folded his arms, turning the corners of his mouth downwards.

"If you do not apologise I will be displeased, and you shan't have any biscuits or tea." Threatened Seymour, his tone of voice becoming stern.

The small dark blue-eyed delinquent mumbled something under his breath. Then looked up and said unhappily, "I'm sorry teacher."

Maester Seymour nodded and asked, "Do you know why would the parents not allow your classmates to see me?"

Bramble, sitting on the chair next to him fumbled with his sharp clawed fingers and shook his head. His expression of deep thought.

"Because they do not want me to pass my illness to them. That is, in the case if I were down with something contagious. That would be prudent, not stupid."

"Oh." Understood Bramble.

He was told by his spunky younglings that their parents were aware of their visit, and that they could stay the afternoon if he let them. He did, and the lazy afternoon wore on. He let the children play and watch the sphere holo-projector in the banquet hall. It was all very calming and relaxing until the doorbell rang again.

They were all on the glossy floor of the hall at the time, on a wide rug with sitting cushions. Seymour was reading them a story from an old book.

There was the sound of Pescal opening the door and then a voice from outside issued into the manor. "Hello, I'm here on a visit from Bevelle. I heard that fellow Maester Lord Seymour was feeling under the weather?"

Seymour's hands crushed the book he was holding at the sound of that voice. He stiffened and turned his eyes fiercely to door.

Maester Kinoc unceremoniously shoved Pescal aside before the latter could say anything, and let himself in. "Hello Seymour! Damn, you're even more of a homo I thought you to be. Caring for children like some woman?" He looked down to see a Guado child who had stepped forward, looking up at him with raised eyebrows.

Simultaneously Pescal was staring open-mouthed at his master with helpless uncertainty, waiting for direct orders.

The book was already doubled over in Seymour's vice-like grasp as he stared at Maester Kinoc. Kinoc was no doubt trying to remember every single youngling's face, that he might perhaps find some use of them in the future for personal gain.

"Why the face Seymour? I survived the Via Purifico, it was a piece of cake." Kinoc wiped his flabby face with the back of his long sleeve, and smiled down at the child before him. The brown-haired child looked to him like any other Guado, freakishly ugly with markings on its face as if it were some type of rare skin condition. "So... where do you live boy?"

That was it. "GET OUT!" Roared Lord Seymour, hurling the book clear across the hall. "How dare you come here!" He stood up and strode towards the door and past the frightened younglings of whom were still seated on the floor.

Kinoc was already stepping backwards and out of the house. "I just came to visit you my friend." He said, smiling with his hands outstretched as if he had done nothing wrong.

"Tell me why should I not kill you on the spot!" The half-Guado felt Pescal's arms firmly close around his midriff, holding him back.

"Your _wife_ for one would be most upset." He waved his fat hand, clearly enjoying the hate and anger he evoked in his younger rival. He said, "cute kids." And then he turned and left, chuckling.

Still holding onto his straining master, Pescal kicked the door shut with his foot and cried, "My Lord please! Regain your composure!"

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

On Besaid Yuna received a much anticipated letter from her husband:

_My Lady,_

_The reason why this letter is in Pescal's handwriting is because I have hurt my_

_writing hand. Do not grow anxious, it is nothing serious. Perhaps while_

_I am out of action I should go and have my back tattooed._

_I did not expect to hear from you so soon. I am glad to know_

_that you are well at your homeland. Send my regards to your family._

_Forgive me, I have been busy with work at the office. I will be coming to see_

_you very soon._

_Missing you desperately,_

_Seymour_

**End Of Chapter Seventeen**

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Dear readers, forgive me for the monotony in this chapter. And for those of you who are sharper, please don't leave a review on what you all think Seymour is really up to with all that equipment. (Would spoil story for other readers.)

_The review button calls you! CLICK IT._

**Suggest to me, what fashion in which you would prefer Kinoc to die in...**

••••••••••••••••••

My pleasure to those who have faved this (ages ago):

Darkangel Guard, DeathAngelsEriiko, DestinyStarX12, Eine Kleine Katze, Foreveralone16, Innocent Dimande, Manga Girl number 6, Necrosame, Stay Undefined, Supon, Yuna-ffx-angel, bahamutchar, fancyrubydionna, frailynxdresden and shyshion!


	18. Ocean Deep

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X fan-fic

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

--

"Please master Seymour! Not in front of the younglings!" Pescal gasped, trying his best to hold his Lord from behind. That perilous tell-tale smell of sulphur was getting worse, his movements were getting stronger and more erratic.

Seymour screamed and broke free of Pescal's grasp, and with a strong sweep of his arm sent Pescal sprawling onto the floor.

"My Lord!" Yelled the violet-haired servant in pain, as he received a compact kick in the side from Seymour. Through his eyes narrowed in agony, he saw the blank and wide-eyed expression of his master, raising the back of his fist to strike him again on the floor. He flipped himself onto his feet, from his pocket he whipped out sleeping weed and pressed it to Seymour's face.

The two of them staggered in that awkward and haphazard standing position like sticks in the wind, before Seymour stopped struggling and became as limp as a wooden puppet in Pescal's grasp.

Catching his previously panicked breathing, Pescal shakily held the now unconscious and lifeless Seymour and said, "Young ones. I think you should all go home now."

The children looked at one another worried and confused.

"Go on. Maester Seymour will be fine." Assured Pescal, heaving Seymour's form.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"Master Seymour..." Came Tromell's calm and paternal voice.

Seymour felt himself lying in his bed. He remembered Kinoc, and then... "Where is Pescal... the younglings..?"

"He is in his quarters resting. He is unhurt, save for bruised ribs." Tromell furrowed his green bushy brows and continued, "The younglings went home, none were hurt."

Seymour felt relief and yet at the time humiliating guilt. He must have hurt Pescal, his mind seemed to be swimming in mud as he struggled to recall what had happened.

Tromell pulled the warm and richly Guado patterned blanket higher up, and tucked Seymour in. "It was not your fault my Lord."

"It is all mine. That I let myself become like this." Mumbled Seymour, his eyes closed. "I will leave for Besaid tomorrow morning.

Tromell sighed. "I shall go and make arrangements for a private yacht."

"Make sure that there is comfortable room for ten, including captain and crew. I will be bringing the six younglings with me. I do not like the idea that Kinoc is here in Guadosalam." Breathed Seymour, looking as though he was asleep, lying still with his eyes closed.

"...Lord Seymour," came Tromell's aged and unsteady voice, "surely that can't be necessary?"

"If Kinoc can attempt to assault a Maester's wife, I do not want to find out what he is capable of with younglings."

"A wise choice Master Seymour." Bowed Tromell.

"I want you to send a letter to me in Besaid, when sources tell you that Kinoc has left Guadosalam."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Lord Seymour sighed as he watched five excited younglings jump off the bobbing yacht even before it had berthed at the small wooden jetty of Besaid. He blinked in the bright and toasty sunlight, and looked at the coconut and palm trees swaying in the sea breeze. He had never been to Besaid before, and he was not disappointed with the scenery. The glittering water of the sea was uncommonly clean and clear. The sky, perpetually blue.

Lars looked up at Seymour before joining the rest running onto the fine white sand of the beach. He was brought here (other than keeping him away from Kinoc) also because Seymour did not want to risk Lars telling Tromell or Pescal what he smelt the other day.

He was surprised as an aeon flew in from the green vegetated island. It was a red phoenix, it called shrilly as it landed onto the edge of the yacht ruffling its rich plumage. Then far off he saw his Yuna wave to him in the light of the sun, her silky hair shining. With her was the priest of Besaid temple.

The bald priest, pale from staying indoors so much came forward and performed the prayer of Yevon, he greeted formally, "Maester Seymour, you have arrived. Your accommodation at the temple has been arranged for."

"I apologise for the children, it is all very last-minute. I arranged for an educational trip for them."

The priest did the sign of Yevon again, "Not a problem at all Maester."

Yuna came forward and stared at him without saying anything.

"Whatever is the matter Yuna?" Asked Seymour, looking down at her curious face.

"Your eyes Seymour..." She said, as she hugged him in warm greeting. His eyes were of a different colour in the blinding sun, a pale luminous lavender. 'How beautiful' she thought, then she let go and said, "I want to show you my home! Come with me."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Whilst Seymour walked with Yuna down the tranquil path to the village of Besaid, from the ruins jumped a Ronso, right into their way effectively blocking them.

Yuna laughed shaking her head, "Kimahri, stop that."

However, her fearsome guardian did not respond, but swung his long iron lance through the air and growled. His dark blue furry face, the very picture and definition of serious business.

Seymour nodded and said, "Will you let me pass?" When he got no answer, he drew out his priest's stave and confidently assumed the position for battle.

They fought in the spots and dapples of sunlight falling through the tropical foilage. Seymour easily blocked the feline's strikes, Yuna's guardian was hitting so hard that whenever their weapons struck white sparks flew literally. Kimahri roared in frustration, aimed a kick at his adversary and missed.

Then all action stopped, when they both had their weapons locked in a spectacular strength-testing sparring match. Suddenly the Ronso stopped, backed away three short steps, and touched his horn (though broken) in respect and left. Kimahri must have felt that Seymour was only using half of his strength, and was satisfied by it.

Seymour looked at Yuna and said levelly, "I am aware. Ronso culture, to challenge and test the strength of a new ally before he or she enters a settlement or village... I sense that he does not like me."

Yuna touched his long-sleeved forearm and said, "When he fought Tidus he didn't salute him with his horn. It means he looks up to you."

"I see." Seymour said allowing his wife to lead him by the arm down the path. Although he was going to be 'no more' soon, he still cared for Yuna's welfare. "Yuna, are you fine now, have you recovered? You were in shock when I sent you back here."

"I'm much better now Seymour thanks." Yuna smiled softly up at him. "It's okay." She pushed him gently, seeing the negative expression in his violet eyes. Again she gazed at them, they looked most entrancing in the piercing sunlight, like embers smouldering in a pit.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Glad to be out of the strong light, Seymour blinked and allowed his eyes to adjust in Yuna's tent. He smiled at her and sat on the floor with her, content to be shown her home.

"Was there really so much work at the office?" Asked Yuna dubiously, narrowing her eyes a little.

"There was." Seymour said, inwardly he was in pain again. To be near her, and to know that she could never come to know the extent of his suffering. He looked downwards at the floor, thinking about what he would do the moment he returned to Guadosalam.

"Is your hand better?" Inquired Yuna concerned, reaching and pulling at his writing hand. "You don't look okay..." She opened his large palm searching for injury.

He drew his blue-clawed hand away. "I am well. What have you been doing here these past days?"

"Practising my summoning and white magic." Replied Yuna.

Seymour felt a stroke of envy lash him. Yuna and her aeons, the way she tended to them and trained them. Nurturing them in and out of battle. He was sure that she would much rather spend time with them than he, recalling the red one he saw earlier, the one that she had named "Valefor."

He looked at her and voiced abruptly, "Yuna. Do I look ugly to you?"

She raised her eyebrows in surprise at the question and replied, "Seymour, why do you ask that?"

The Maester shook his head and sighed, muttering that it meant nothing. He was thinking that it might be a ridiculous mistake to come here, when he was to be reminded of his lowly insecurities. Reminded of all that he wanted gone, things that so stubbornly hounded and haunted him.

Yuna leant closer to him and scrutinised his face. "What's wrong Seymour, you look worried."

He noticed that her scent had returned to normal again, he could be half-honest with her at least. "Kinoc visited the manor recently the other day."

Her sweet expression hardened. "What for?"

"To taunt me with his visit perhaps." He waved his hand irritated, "The younglings I brought with me were there, and I lost my temper in front of them." Seymour wore a sarcastic smile for a moment. "Is it not wonderful that he has somehow survived the Via Purifico?"

Yuna was frowning, speechless she shook her head angrily with open contempt. "The nerve of him!"

"This is unpleasant conversation. Shall we refrain from speaking unnecessarily about him?" Cut in Seymour, although his voice smooth, it held repressed anger.

"Hey hi!" Called Tidus waving from outside, with him was Wakka. Wakka immediately did the sign of Yevon and bowed nervously.

Not liking the awkward situation, Seymour bowed his head and got up, "Hello Wakka, Tidus. Send my regards to Yuna's other guardians and adopted family."

"Oh stay Seymour!" Said Yuna.

"I have to watch my students." Refused Lord Seymour gently.

"I'll see you at dinner time!" Called Yuna, as he left.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

In Besaid temple, Seymour could hear his little charges even before he entered the intricately tiled chamber housing them. He sighed as he cautiously opened the door.

He heard Heshmal's voice squeaking with laughter, "I got you!"

Heshmal was play-fighting with Bramble. The two were wrestling restlessly on the clean floor. Mirin and Pogrom were hanging from the chandelier. Lars and Aria were playing in corner, laughing impishly.

Their teacher stood there and cleared his throat.

They stopped in their antics, remaining in their present positions they chirped cheerily at their tutor, "Hello teacher!"

"Come. Let us explore this beautiful island." Announced Seymour. "We could go tree climbing."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Meanwhile Yuna was training her first aeon, Valefor in the humid tropical jungle of the island. She should be in top form, if Sir Auron were still at Besaid, he would be nagging at her to concentrate right now. But she was not, distracted by worried and unsettled thoughts of her husband. He did not seem like his usual self.

Being around Guado, she noticed commonly adult Guado had impassive or calm faces. (Though for Seymour it was much more prominent.) She figured that they sensed and smelt moods unlike humans, who read physical facial expressions.

In his manner today he was slower and more distracted, his eyes lacked that 'life' in them. Perhaps he was disturbed by Kinoc's impromptu and unwanted visit. It was unlike Yuna to be judgemental, but she would admit to herself that she very much so disliked Maester Kinoc. She found found him repulsive, especially after what he tried to do to her. 'Ew.' She thought.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"Maester Seymour... are you mad at us?" Asked Bramble cautiously, lying on a rough and thick branch. Around them the sounds of the jungle could be heard, of birds and crickets. "Did we do something bad?"

"No, of course not." Seymour said, not looking at them. He was leaning against the rough and crumbly trunk of a tree. His expression one of cold indifference.

"Then why won't you come play with us?" Asked Pogrom jumping down from his perch, above Bramble.

"Are you still sick teacher? You smell... funny." Commented yellow-haired Aria, who was holding Mirin's hand.

"Yes. I am still sick."

Seymour felt Lars give him a head-butt in his stomach. He looked at him to see Lars's grey eyes worriedly staring up at him.

Lars said, "Teacher, don't be sad. We love you."

Feeling their contact, he made no answer. He felt nothing, nothing could bring relief to his lingering pain. Their sincerity did not matter to him at all, they could hate him like poison for all he cared.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Two days had passed since her husband's stay in Besaid, and Yuna had barely come into contact with him. He always gave excuses, saying that he needed to tend to his students. Yuna sighed while she helped Wakka make dinner. Lulu was lighting the lamps, as darkness bringing the night fell over the island.

Yuna mused that maybe Seymour brought the children along _specifically_ so that he could have _less_ contact with her. What on Spira was wrong with him?! Although he was here, she was still missing him.

After dinner she left to find him. She waited until the time when most began to settle in for the night, when weak lights began to go off in tents. When people began to speak softly just before they went to sleep.

Entering Besaid temple she walked in by the flickering lights of the flaming torches on the walls. The orange light shone on the statues of successful summoners, the ill-defined shadows swaying in the dark.

She knocked quietly on his door. "Enter." Came her husband's voice.

She went in and saw him in the light of a brass lamp, reclining in a large comfortable chair. When he saw her he said, "Yuna, I was not expecting you. Why the late-night visit?"

"I am here to confront you." She said directly. "You have been avoiding me."

"What of it?" He asked, raising his head. He had never seen her like act like this towards him before, and he did not know what to expect from this.

Yuna was hurt when she heard his neutral reply. She went over closer, standing before him. She changed her tone of voice and approach. "There has been something wrong with you Seymour. Please tell me what is it." With her hands together, she came closer to look at him.

Seymour shut his eyes and ruefully turned his head away, refusing to look at her.

"Seymour." She called his name again, her voice more persuasive and filled with tender concern. "Tell me what's the matter!"

He felt her hands on his, resting on the wooden arms of the chair. He could not look at her although she told him to, it was too frightfully difficult. Seymour felt like a child who had been caught red-handed doing something wrong. He bitterly raised the back of his hand to his mouth and bit his sleeve hard, trying to control himself. "Yuna... I, I!"

"What happened? It's okay Seymour..." She soothed mildly, noticing the change in his composure.

"I have been trying to kill myself." Seymour confessed, hating the fact that he had begun to weep as a tear fell from his eye. He hoped it was the only one. At the word 'kill' he felt her fingers stiffen around his shaking wrists. Suddenly Yuna climbed onto his lap and she hugged him fiercely.

"Don't Seymour. Please don't." She whispered, her head leaning on his chest. He could feel her warm breath on his exposed skin. It increased his guilt, corroding into him like a strong acid.

"I have been trying to become an aeon." He choked on his tears, his eyes shut. His hands gripping the arms of the chair tightly, his claws savagely digging into the antique wood.

"Why Seymour?"

Crying, he shook his head in acute suffering. His voice hushed and uneven, "... Because you do not love me. My love for you... I.. I am satiated by it! I cannot go on anymore." He said through clenched teeth.

Yuna shifted in his lap, and knelt instead of sat. Trying to be level with her tall husband, she just reached his jaw and touched her lips to it. Her voice became sultry. "Your lips are so difficult to reach Seymour..." She kissed his neck, her fine hands finding themselves on his face.

"Yuna..."

She pulled him as close as she could, and kissed his mouth. ("I love you Seymour.") Hungrily he returned the kiss, then frightened and alarmed he drew away, his breathing heavy. Hating how weak and unprotected his voice sounded, "Yuna..." He murmured, "... is this... all just pretend?"

She gently put her mouth to his ear and whispered, her lips moving against them, "No." Yuna sincerely looked into his eyes with her own, one emerald the other sapphire.

His face burning, he felt her fingers in his coarse blue hair stroking it. _His_ hair. Then he closed his eyes when he felt her touch his ear, she said, noticing the interesting shape, of how it what just slightly pointed. "You're so handsome Seymour."

Yuna felt Seymour's hands on her fair slender shoulders, squeezing them. In his eyes filled with disquiet, was a look of painful disbelief as he stared at her. She leant to him, and tenderly caressed his face, kissing away his hot tears.

They kissed again. Both inexperienced, blushing deep and unsure, they touched the tips of their tongues shyly. Their hands exploring each other's body. Seymour smelt subtle security, safety and steady comfort. He was so content with the trust he sensed from her, and that indescribable sense of peace.

"Yuna... You are arousing me..." Breathed Seymour heavily. The veins on his face and forehead, a darker and stronger blue. "I know what I look like when I'm like this. I must look grotesque to you..."

"No, you don't... and I trust you Seymour. I know you would never rape me or harm me." She pushed her mouth onto his again, wanting to feel his tongue. When she could not reach his lips, she whispered, "You're beautiful..."

He gasped and leant back in the chair, "We should cease." He knew with her so close, she would surely at any moment be able to feel his growing passion and hardening desire. Yuna was so innocent, he did not want to scare her as her husband, and much less as a man. He did not want to lose her trust.

Ignoring what he said, she teased him and pressed the length of her petite body against his. For a moment her eyes widened, and then she smiled in surprise when she felt him. "Can I stay here for the night?" Feeling the warmth of his body she hugged him. "I still miss you, you know."

"Please do..." Was his quiet reply. He was so afraid that none of this was real or true, that at any moment she was going to run away from him. All giddy he held her tighter in that first true embrace, that private and secret moment in the dark.

"Do you feel better now?"

Seymour moaned a positive response, with his hands on her waist. Then with one hand, he touched her smooth face mindful of his sharp claws. He expressed his insecurities to her without shame, "I am scared, I feel as though you will flee from me."

She slowly got off his lap, and pulled him to bed with her. "How could I ever run from you?"

Sleep was never so solidly peaceful for the young Maester.

**End Of Chapter Eighteen**

••••••••••••

Forgive the short AND slow chapter dear readers. Art school vacation has ended.

Boost my morale to make me update faster!!


	19. Naske's Message

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X fan-fic

CHAPTER NINETEEN

--

In the early hours of the morning, Lord Seymour stirred in his sleep. 'It was not a dream, it was real. All of it.' He thought to himself, seeing his dear Yuna asleep safely near him on the soft bed in Besaid temple's guest room. In the blue-grey and subdued light, he could see her facial features... so peaceful-looking.

He shifted closer to her, gently pushing the bed cover aside so that he could have his body next to hers. Instinctively as a Guado, he closed his eyes and laid his veined cheek against her fair face. He breathed in her sweet scent contentedly, she smelt cold. He could easily keep her warm in his embrace, she was so petite... holding her he told himself that he would let nothing harm her, or let any other man molest her.

After a few moments in the dark Seymour felt her move, quietly he watched her closed eyelids flicker.

"Seymour." Drowsy, she shivered and grasped at his vest collar. She smiled with her eyes closed.

"Forgive me for waking you." He pulled Yuna to him when he felt her shiver again.

She was drifting off once again into sleep, and his heart beat harder when he felt her cold hand stroke his cheek once. "It's too early, sleep." She whispered, groping for his hand and squeezing it under the warmth of the blanket.

He relaxed and went back to sleep also, for how could he refuse her?

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"Maester Mika, Operation Mi' ihen Session 2 is on course." Reported Kinoc, with his shaven head bowed. "All we need is your confirmation."

Old Maester Mika looked up from his robust plants in the green house. "Can it be post-phoned any longer, have the missing summoners been found?" His voice cracking from surprise and hesitation.

"We have found them, but the Al Bhed will only release them on the condition that the summoners in question swear to quit their pilgrimages." Explained Kinoc.

Wizened Maester Mika sighed and shook his white head. "So much conflict..." Maester Mika handed his watering can to Kinoc, who grudgingly took it. Mika said, "What are the estimated fatalities for operation Mi' ihen session 2?"

"Six hundred to more than a thousand." The hard figures echoed in the spacious greenhouse of Highbridge.

Mika did not reply, but turned away from Kinoc who appeared morbidly enthusiastic. "Can the Al Bhed be coerced into releasing the summoners? Send for Maester Kelk Ronso."

By nature and culture, the Ronso knew everything in, on and about the art of war. Fierce, honourable warriors and fighters all of them, they strove in each of their disciplines and blue magic. Maester Kelk who came shortly mentioned frowning, "It would be risky to attack the Al Bhed. Their arms are too advanced. I vote that we wait and post-phone the operation."

Maester Mika stroked his beard. "Spread rumours to Spira's press that there are complications regarding the second operation. God only knows how will the public react to this." Mika covered his face and looked up again. "Has Maester Seymour Guado been alerted, and has he recovered from illness yet?"

The old Ronso said, "Kinoc insisted to visit him at Guadosalam instead of being sent one of my messengers."

Speechless, Mika glared at Kinoc.

"Shall I send one of my messengers?" Asked Kelk, hoping to lighten the tension, professionally hiding his disgust under his fierce exterior. He recollected the trial he put him in, Via Purifico. And by some miracle two days later he emerged, ruffled and battered but with no serious damage or injuries to his person. Kelk did not know what to make of Kinoc's ability to grin immediately after.

"Well?" Demanded Mika, his temper becoming short. "Maester Kinoc, has he recovered yet?"

"No. Before I left Guadosalam I was informed by his butler Tromell, after my visit during the following day that he had left for Besaid, apparently on a field-trip with some of his students."

Kelk cut in gruffly, "Fostering harmony and more exposure between man and Guado. I will send one of my personal messengers, and leave it at that."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"Die Guado scum!" Yelled a small boy from Besaid with a wooden sword, near him a dog frisked about on the grey village flagstones wagging its tail happily. Behind him were three boys and two girls, all tan from playing on the beach and long-term exposure to salt water.

"Argh!" Cried Bramble an mock agony, taking the toy sword and sticking it through his armpit. "I've been stabbed!" He narrowed his eyes and stretched one of his arms out, his glossy dark blue hair shining in the sun, "I see the light!"

"Sir Bramble has been slain!" Exclaimed Pogrom, wringing his clawed hands in the air.

Mirin sat at the "dying" Bramble's side and pretended to cry hysterically. "No...o... ooo!"

Another boy with a sword pounced and play jabbed it into Bramble, finishing him.

A distance away, sitting on the carved steps of Besaid temple was Yuna and Seymour, watching the little scene. Yuna looked at Seymour's calm expression, as if he had to go through things as such everyday. "Educational trip, exposure to man's culture?" She asked with her eyebrows raised.

"What else would you call this?" Smirked Seymour, turning his head to look at her.

Yuna covered her mouth as she laughed. "More like the other way around. They're re-enacting the massacre of the Guado more than two thousand years ago aren't they?"

Seymour nodded, watching his students, making sure no-one got hurt. "I taught them it was a just a cautionary tale, about in times of war never let your adversary take an advantage away from you."

Yuna mused, "Because the Yevonites lured the Guado away from their forested home and attacked them. It was my least favourite bedtime story..."

"Why?"

"It involves dying." Yuna saw something flicker in his blue eyes as he glanced down for a moment.

"I understand." He replied slowly.

"Hey don't get like that again okay? You're a good person." She reassuringly held his huge blue-clawed hand. Yuna changed the subject, "So do you think I'm well enough to go home with you?"

"Do you wish to?" Asked Seymour, testing her scent. She smelt normal again, not nervous or anxious. It pleased him that she was fine once more, it was so painful when she was unwell very well nearly driving him mad with guilt and worry.

"I miss home, Guadosalam... and teaching my choir." She sighed looking at the clear sky.

He replied her answer with a small smile.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"Hey!" Yelped Tidus in surprise when he felt something jump up from behind suddenly. When he turned around, he saw it was one of the Maester's students. He looked around and saw that there were two more up in the tree branches. He began uncertainly, "Uh... Hi? I'm Tidus. Who are you?"

"Pogrom." Was the reply from the strange-looking brown-haired child.

Tidus leaned forward to look at the kid. Before he could speak, one with green hair ran to him and laughed, "It's Lady Yuna's guardian!"

All at once, with a rustle of leaves, they jumped down to talk to him. As a blitzball star, he knew how to handle the attention he was getting. "You know, you guys shouldn't be here all alone. There are fiends out!"

Shards of ice streaked through the air, thudding deep into a nearby tree. A kid with dark blue hair boasted, "We know magic."

Tidus gaped with his mouth open.

"If we didn't teacher wouldn't let us out for sure." Said one with yellow hair like straw, coming over to him.

"Teacher makes us practice, though he would prefer with an adult. Will you watch us?" Said another, slightly older than the rest with unusual grey hair.

To Tidus, he could not even have told their genders if they had not spoken, they looked so asexual. They knew magic at this age. It was all too much for him to take. He ran away from the jungle screaming for Yuna.

"He's weird." And all agreed at that statement.

"Let's go swimming!"

"YAY!"

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

In the night while everyone sat and had their dinner at the roaring campfire, a Ronso messenger arrived at Besaid village. He walked straight to the temple steps, and presented himself to where Lord Seymour was seated outdoors with the monks and six Guado children. Seymour was startled at who it was.

He shook his mane and touched his horn, "Naske brings a message from Maester Mika."

Seymour got up and stately walked from the warm campfire, nodding to Naske.

Out of hearing range, at the pillars of Besaid temple Naske spoke, "News is Operation Mi' ihen Session 2 delayed. Public grows restless because no summoners are fighting Sin. Al Bhed will only release captured summoners, if summoners swear to quit pilgrimage."

"Why has the operation been delayed?"

"Maester Mika not want heavy casualties again, also trouble gathering troops. Maester Kelk plan to force Al Bhed to surrender summoners." Naske continued, "Maester Mika ask if Maester Seymour has idea."

"Tell the court of Yevon that I second Mika in delaying the operation, and that I will assist in any possible way for Kelk's plan. " Bristling Seymour asked, "Is there anything from Maester Kinoc?"

"To keep appearance to public, Maester Kinoc now rally troops and capture Sin Spawn." Reported the huge Ronso.

"What was your transportation here?" Seymour inquired, as the cool and invisible night breeze blew.

Naske turned and pointed to the jetty in moonlight, where a traditional sturdy Ronso boat was. "Same transport Maester Seymour, Maester's mate summoner Yuna and Guado pups will be taking back to Guadosalam. Maester Mika insist-"

"That I am needed at my office." Seymour looked towards the clearing, glowing in the orange light from the fire, not asking further more questions. He sighed, "Stay for refreshments perchance?"

"To please Maester, Naske will take a quick drink then Naske must go prepare crew." The dark blue-furred anthropomorph bowed to Seymour, before walking away. When he recognised Kimahri far off he waved.

Seymour went back to take his place with the younglings under his care but was stopped in his steps by Yuna. She caught his gaze and asked, "What's happened?"

"Good news and bad. Operation Mi' ihen has been stalled, but there his been unrest in the more populated areas of Spira. The kidnapped summoners have been found but not released." Seymour shook his head at her expression, "Nothing to worry about... I am needed at my office back home. You can tell by the arranged transport." He turned his head to where the moored boat was, by the island's small wooden jetty.

"We will be leaving tonight?"

"Yes, after dinner. Sit with me?" Asked Seymour.

Yuna consented, watching Kimahri converse with Naske away from the village campfire. She sat with Seymour, and his chattering students enjoying the evening. Like what they did at Besaid, they sat on the ground and talked, others kept silent and listened. Watching the fire dance and flicker.

When it got later into the night, Seymour herded his students to take their clothing and leave with him on the boat. He easily carried all their clothing in a duffel bag under his arm.

The dark-skinned children of Besaid ran right down to the beach to wave good bye to their friends from the forests of Guadosalam. Yuna's guardians stood at the jetty and waved, watching the light from the Ronso craft get smaller and smaller, as the waves of the sea took them out.

Lulu waved with Wakka, and said to him, "She looks happier than I expected."

"Ya." Was Wakka's simple reply.

As usual Kimahri stood there silently, while Tidus kept yelling good-bye although he knew they could not hear him.

In the big cabin of the boat, Seymour, Yuna and the six children settled in for the night. The beds were lined with thick rugged furs and bark cloth, and other Ronso fabrics, with distinct tribal designs. Needless to mention, the beds were very large. What was considered "small" to a Ronso was king-sized to a man.

"Besaid is nice." Chirped Aria, snuggling into her striped fur blanket.

"Will we ever come back again teacher?"

Yuna smiled at Seymour, hearing Lars ask that question. Seymour replied, "We will. But maybe not so soon."

"Aw!" Came the protest from a few. Bramble remained silent but punched his fist into the bed.

"But." Said Seymour looking around at them, "When we do, we will stay longer."

"Yay!" Mirin laughed, raising her green claws in the air.

"Time to sleep now okay?" Said Yuna, ruffling Heshmal's messy red hair. She smiled back, when she saw him turn his red-veined face up to look at her.

Pogrom yawned and said, "Human children are fun. They feel that we look funny, like how we feel that they do too!"

Seymour tucked the youngling in saying, "New friends. Well done all of you."

**End Of Chapter Nineteen**

•••••••••••••••

Dear readers,

**I am more artist than writer** actually, and so I went and did some artwork of Seymour and Yuna to keep you all satisfied until the next update. My Deviant art address is:

Visk-VPX dot DeviantArt dot com

I know the link won't work, so search on Deviant Art. (click the picture for FULL VIEW mode.) The title is

Yumour: Bathe With Me

Please don't kill me for making you good readers wait so long. (Uh... please take your time staring at it and pretend that you're reading Negotiation & Persuasion.)

••••••••••••••

**This chapter is dedicated to Dark Angelguard.**

For one of the best reviews ever.

**My heart to:**

ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ

(for giving me the 100th review)

&

Takhira


	20. Haunting: Past and Present

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

CHAPTER TWENTY

A Final Fantasy X Fan-fic

--

For four trying days in a row, Seymour had to answer nothing but letters in his office. Most were repetitive questions on why summoners were going missing, and why the temple of Yevon was doing nothing about it. Others were from various temples asking for instructions on what to tell the restless public.

He found himself irritated by the people's never ending and superficial protests. They appeared selfish, most impatient for a summoner to die... Now within himself there was messy conflict of personal values. He could not decide if or not it was better to die, his thoughts now were like an equally balanced scale, threatening to tip over on either side.

It was why he so readily supported Maester Mika's idea of post-phoning Operation Mi' ihen Session 2. Just months before, he agreed to help Kinoc with the first because the notion that plenty of people dying thrilled him. But now...

He did hear though that the temple of Yevon might be planning to assault the Al Bhed to force them to release their prisoners. He realised that in a forceful way, the Al Bhed were saving the summoner's lives. Cursed lies, and worship of Yu Yevon! It was all so despicable, like a rotting corpse.

Seymour finished his last letter and resentfully applied his stamp. He looked out of the window, and saw that it was in the early evening.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

That evening, Seymour took Yuna to her favourite restaurant in Guadosalam. Yuna told him that she liked everything about the place, the food, the service and most of all the rare view. It was very high up, and the restaurant was appropriately named "Canopy." They had to take a manual mechanical lift up to the place, comprising of iron weights and tough rope pulleys.

It offered an unobstructed panoramic view of the horizon, and Moonflow could be easily seen below. Further off, the Hypello's swamp was just visible, partially hidden in the native foliage.

The place was built on a huge wooden deck, and somehow the branches of the trees grew strategically to support it. The designs of the wooden tables and chairs had elegant curves, twisted into vague botanical motifs.

Yuna liked to sit very close to the edge, a fact that disturbed Seymour because there were no balustrades for safety. Presently they watched the sun setting, the sky turning into gorgeous shades of red and pink.

Wiping her mouth, and setting down her napkin Yuna smiled at Seymour and asked what was he up to recently in his office. He then told her about the trifling letters, telling her things should die down as soon as they get the captive summoners out of their prisons.

She listened to him speaking in his level tenor voice. "How was your class today Yuna?" He asked.

"Great! They're fast learners." Yuna laughed and shook her head, "I did not expect them to miss me this much."

"Of course, when they had Wenex to fill in for you... What was he nicknamed again?" Seymour suppressed a smile.

Yuna had her hand over her mouth as her shoulders shook. "The nickname you gave him, or the one the teens did?"

"Mine is far too dry. The teens of course."

"Seymour! I'm not going to say it!" Giggled Yuna. "It's mean!"

He turned to face her, his head tilting casually to the side. "I wouldn't want to hear you say it either, I shall probably be scarred for life."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Seymour suddenly woke up in the middle of the night. His wife was still asleep, something smelt off, and it was not her. He smelt the musty and stagnant smell of the Farplane. The Farplane?

Careful not to wake her, in the blackness he slid off the bed and stiffly followed the scent. He was drawn to it so, and he could not help himself. It felt so nostalgic and familiar, comforting and yet... dangerous? A part of him told him not to find out what it was, another forced him onwards.

The door of the room creaked as he pushed it open, following that smell and feeling. The manor was silent and unlit. He crept down the stairs, the strange odour was getting stronger. As Seymour got closer, he felt an uncomfortable growing sense of dread mixing in with that nostalgia and longing.

It was coming from outside, behind the manor... in the garden... His bare feet did not feel how cold was the marble floor, only that smell mattered. It felt so important, his mind held no reason being foggy, from just waking up.

Outside he shivered from the dank cold air. There it was among the pretty flowers and carefully pruned shrubs. His dead father, Lord Jyscal escaped from the Farplane. Standing there in all his hideous glory, his shrivelled and sunken mouth gibbering incoherent words, his eyes black and hollow diseased pits.

The smell, so overpowering, and now presently turning sickly sweet could easily make Seymour lose his mind. He now knew it was possible, to feel seething hate and petrifying terror at the same time. He howled weakly in distress and found himself on his knees in the garden, like one breaking under the weight of merciless madness.

Seymour heard shouts, as he felt the escaped unsent's cold dead fingers on his shoulders.

The night guard of the manor was next to Tromell and Pescal, all three had their hands over their noses in horror at the sight, their eyes watering from the unusually concentrated and putrid smell of the unsent, unable to come closer to their master's aid.

Yuna came with her summoner's staff and began to twirl it. The translucent and vapourous form of Jyscal shrieked sharply and let go of Seymour, who was pale and sweating, the life drained out of him. Yuna stepped closer, with her staff and concentrated. When she twirled her staff a final time, Jyscal burst into pyre flies and was sent back to the Farplane.

Panicked, she ran over to where Seymour was lying prone on the damp ground. His breathing was laboured, like a tired beast of burden.

"Master Seymour, are you all right?" Asked Tromell, leaning forward concerned and searching his young master's face for a reaction.

Yuna was holding up his head, and brushing his damp hair from his pale face. She felt his shaking hands reaching for hers, as she pulled his upper body onto her lap.

"Are you hurt my Lord?" Pescal was holding onto the brass handle of the garden door, "Shall I fetch my medic's tools?"

Seymour muttered turning his head into Yuna's bosom, "No... no I am unhurt." With his eyes painfully shut he inhaled her calming scent.

The two servants smelt Yuna's mood, bowed and left quickly knowing that she wanted to be alone with her husband.

"Are you okay? You're shaking." She whispered, worry filled in her eyes. She was holding him, rubbing his neck to soothe him.

"I want my alcohol..."

"Seymour you shouldn't drink like this!"

"I must..."

"Shh... it's cold, let's go inside. Can you stand?" She helped him to his feet. She watched his pale face, all composure and strength lost in it.

He held her to steady himself. Yuna concentrated and cast focus onto him. Slightly better, they went in and back to the master chamber.

Yuna helped him onto the firm velvet daybed near the window. Seymour shook his head in shock, his lethargic expression of pure dismay, shaking uncontrollably. "I can still smell him..."

Yuna sat next to his reclining form. She tightly held his hand, "He's gone, I sent him."

"Yuna..." Seymour gasped through his breathing.

"Calm down Seymour." She lay on him, whispering into his ear, "Shh... calm down."

"Yuna, hold me - I've had such a fright." He said, his voice quiet and vulnerable.

When she thought of the sight she saw in the garden, she herself shivered. It was horrific and disgusting. In her arms, she felt him calm down somewhat. Yuna felt his long arms close around her, and they remained in that comforting mutual embrace.

Seymour sighed, "You saved me... you saved me." He held onto her, not letting go.

Yuna cried, "I heard you screaming, I was so scared... I ran to the window. Does Lord Jyscal-"

"It has never happened before." Seymour laid his forehead against hers. "He has come back to haunt me even after I have served my punishment for killing him."

"Was your relationship with Lord Jyscal so bitter?" Asked Yuna, running her fingers through Seymour's coarse blue hair. "This is the second time I have sent him."

Seymour closed his eyes at the question. "It was. But I shan't tell you tonight. I am already too disturbed."

"Seymour, do something for me? Take leave tomorrow and spend the day with me. You have been so stressed at the office." Her feminine voice sounded.

"To please you, I will."

Yuna smiled, and concentrated. Gently she prompted him with her summoner's magic, it was the same magic she would use to walk on water to dance. She whispered, "Let me feel you now Seymour."

"I." He slowed his breathing and concentrated, feeling her spirit. She was calming him with her gentle and undying compassion. It was like feeling the wind blow onto him, so benign and tender.

"We will get everything sorted out okay?"

"I hope."

Sleeping in until the late morning was something Seymour was not at all used to. He woke up when the sun was just beginning to rise, routinely climbing out of bed. When he stopped and remembered that he was not supposed to be working today.

He let out a surprised gasp when he felt Yuna grab his clothing. ("I thought you were asleep!")

Yuna sat up and rubbed her eyes, "I often just lay quietly when you wake up, and listen as you get ready for work. Sometimes I open my eyes just enough to watch you." She said softly.

The idea of Yuna watching him secretly while he changed into his usual clothing made his heart thump. He hid his surprise coupled with pleasure, smirked and turned to her, "Peeping tom."

"I can peep at my husband right?" Yuna said cheekily, tugging on his night robe.

"Since when have you cultivated this habit?"

"Not telling you." Yuna retorted playfully, Seymour could see by the light shining in from the closed curtains that she was blushing.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Later during the afternoon at the field next to the brook, Yuna sat with him. Asking Seymour about Lord Jyscal.

"It disturbs me to speak about my father. Is it necessary?"

Yuna gently told him, turning her head to one side in the pleasantly cool weather.. "It is, this is the second time he has made an attempt to contact the living. But this time he has actually _left_ the Farplane."

"His will was strong, and so was his hate."

Seymour sat with Yuna, their backs against one of the many light grey boulders dotting the vast field here and there. Around them, the wind blew rustling the green grass making natural music.

Yuna was leaning comfortingly on him, she said, "It wasn't always this way was it?" When he did not answer she continued, "When you were serving your punishment at Bevelle... Tromell and Pescal told me that Lord Jyscal used to love you." It hurt Yuna as much as she was hurting her husband to speak about this matter.

The half-Guado bit his sleeve in angst, turned away and closed his eyes. "You know not what it is you are doing to me Yuna." He drew a shuddering breath, his fists clenching. He felt her small hands clasp his forearm, pulling his wrist away from his mouth.

"Lord Jyscal didn't always use to hit you did he?"

Hating what escaped from his lips Seymour mouthed, barely a whisper. "No."

She hugged him, giving him strength. As she pressed her forehead against his chest, Yuna thought about what could have happened, Jyscal who just lost the way and began hating his own flesh and blood. But this was not about Jyscal, it was about her husband. He so needed healing and closure, peace of mind. Yuna looked up at him, "Any happy memories?"

Seymour's face was a picture of many mixed emotions, his blue eyes were pleading with Yuna to stop reminding him of what he wished to forget. Her gaze was gentle, he could smell that she felt his pain and had no intention to hurt him needlessly. That smell of sadness. "I recall. Before the violence, before the unhappiness. When we were still a family. He. He used to hug me and carry me about, singing to me." He shook his head. "I cannot go on, forgive me Yuna!"

"It's okay."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"Stand aside Pescal. I _said_ stand aside!" Screamed Lord Jyscal in the dining room of the manor. He was a Guado just past his prime, not having his beard yet and walking stick.

A younger Pescal was shaking, behind him clinging onto the trousers of his gold-lined uniform was a very young Seymour. Pescal had just started working in the manor for two weeks, and was unsure of how to react to this.

"STAND ASIDE!"

When he did step aside, Seymour stubbornly held onto Pescal's clothes. Pescal voiced uncertainly, "My Lord-"

"Don't you dare defy me!" Jyscal tore Seymour from Pescal and struck the squealing youngling.

"Pa pa?"

"What?!"

"Why do you beat me?" Whispered little Seymour flat on the cold floor, staring up at his father who towered at least five feet above him.

The man said through his teeth. "Because I love you." He turned and left the room, slamming the door.

"Hush Master Seymour. Hush..." Pescal got down on his knees and cradled the sobbing youngling.

"I- I want Tromell... where's Tromell?" Whimpered Seymour, burying his quivering clawed hands in Pescal's thick purple hair.

Carrying the unfortunate four-year-old child upstairs he tried his best to soothe the child. Lady Amina was not in at the time, she was visiting relatives in Bevelle.

"I want Tromell!" Repeated the weeping child.

"Tromell is out buying wine and provisions."

The youngling let out an unhappy sound, filled with an uncharacteristic amount of bitterness for one so young. The sharp scent coming from the child accented it, it was infectious, and Pescal found himself wanting to weep himself.

Pescal put Seymour in his room, filled with carved toys and other playthings. As he was leaving, once again the poor thing latched himself onto his clothing, crying, "Stay Pescal! Don't leave me alone."

"Master Seymour I have work to do." He told the youngling as gently as he could. That sentence caused a fresh stream of tears to flow on the tiny boy's face. It broke his heart to see such a sight.

"Don't go! Don't go!"

He knelt down and gathered the child up in a hug, it was the most he could give to the wretched and pathetic thing.

When Seymour woke up, the new butler Pescal was nowhere to be seen. He did not know what time it was, but judging from the noise coming from downstairs it was already in the evening, when his father was holding a party in the banquet hall.

His bed, or as the guado call an adolescent's bed - cradle was in the centre of his room. Surrounded by massive marble and porcelain vases holding bunches of fresh flowers. He would have to do as he was told, to stay out of sight.

But not for that night. Two curious younglings his age came up to see him. When Seymour heard his door knock, he thought it was Tromell and he enthusiastically answered the door.

"Hello!" Said one of the two with a black veined face, with black hair and claws to match.

"Mesmir! Aela, you shouldn't be here!"

Seymour stepped back from the doorway with his eyes wide open. If he were caught, his father would beat him to death. "I-"

Smelling Seymour's worried scent the other, a girl with yellow hair said, "We won't tell. Because we're not supposed to be here either."

Mesmir brushed his knuckles on Seymour's. "Want to play?"

Seymour smiled uneasily, "Okay."

Aela laughed, pulling on his hand. "Let's go tree climbing!"

"I can't go downstairs when there's a party!"

Mesmir said, "Your father won't catch us. I promise."

Trusting them, he went down the curving stairs, and the two led him to the outdoors by the back of the noisy mansion.

"I've never been out this late before." Said Seymour, looking up at the stars.

"Not only at night, why aren't you always out?" Asked Mesmir.

Seymour frowned and thought for a moment, fighting to find the words. "Pa pa doesn't let me, he says I'm a 'freak.' He says it like it's a bad thing. Maybe he means that I'm bad, he beats me every time he calls me that." He looked down, teary.

"What's a freak?"

"Don't cry Seymour." Said Aela, she made a funny face at Seymour, causing him to laugh. "You don't _look_ as if you're bad."

"You don't smell bad either." Confirmed Mesmir sniffing the air. "Meaning you're okay." Mesmir looked up at the stars again. Then he said, "Come with us!" Offered Mesmir.

"Where?"

"Tree climbing silly." Said Aela, taking Seymour's hand, clammy from being nervous.

At the top of the gnarled tree, Mesmir candidly said to Seymour, "You climb bad. Never mind, you'll get better."

"We're so high." Said Seymour, looking down in wonder swinging his feet in the air.

They sat up there looking at the shining moon, and the tiny yellow lights of Guadosalam until Mesmir's and Aela's parents called them down. Mesmir and Aela hugged Seymour, "Let's play again next time okay?"

"My father..."

"We'll find you even when there's no school. Just you wait!"

The sight of them with their parents made Seymour hurt. It may as well been something terrifically obscene or violent, that was detrimental to a child's mental health.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

In the field next to the small brook, the sun was beginning to set. Yuna said, "Imagine how much lonelier you would have been if you did not have them as friends. Are they still your friends now?"

Yuna and Seymour stared at the setting sun, burning red and orange on the wide horizon far away. Seymour nodded, "Yes, Mesmir is the head tamer of the stables, with Aela as his wife."

"Are you sure you hated Lord Jyscal...?" Asked the Lady summoner again, a gust of wind whipping the hair from her face.

"I killed my father. I killed him, I hated him and hate him still." The Maester raved. "I had to kill him. I cannot forget what he did to me!"

Yuna was frowning, while she stared at her frantic homicidal husband. It was all so contradicting, something was out of place. Did he love or hate Spira, that he wanted to kill it? What she was going to do was very dangerous, but she would bravely take that mad risk. She asked, "If you hated Lord Jyscal, then why did you kill him?"

Seymour's eyes grew wide with horror, slowly he turned his head to see Yuna.

She continued, "To you living is suffering right Seymour, you killed him because you loved him."

"No!" Seymour roared furiously, punching the ground in animus.

"If you love me, why won't you kill me?" Yuna, unaffected by his raised temper pressed on, "Why won't you kill me now Seymour?"

Seymour bit into his silk sleeve quivering, and threw his head back to scream in an uncontrolled manner. No one was in the field to hear that piercing cry.

Yuna felt Seymour's clawed hands grasp her roughly, her heart jumped in fear...

**End Of Chapter Twenty**


	21. Whiskey & Wine

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X Fan-fic

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

--

Yuna saw the madness in his sapphire eyes, turning purple in the light of the red setting sun. Ignoring her fear and pain of causing such strife to him, she asked softly, "Why won't you kill me...?" Without warning she felt him draw her into a crushing embrace, her ear picked up his shuddering gasps, his mouth against it.

He let her go, breathing heavily fighting back the stinging tears in his eyes. He brought her trembling hands to his lips and kissed them sincerely. "I'm sorry that I scared you. How could you ask me of that?" When he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, he smelt her burning fear and his heart wrenched itself in raw guilt and shame.

His lady put her small hands on his heaving chest, whispering, "You're just confused Seymour..."

"Yuna, I'm fucked up."

Yuna dotingly put her finger over his quavering lips, "Don't say such things about yourself..."

He looked at her hopelessly. "It's the truth."

"You can change. Right now, while we're talking you've already decided that killing is bad. I am alive in your arms." Said Yuna gently, hugging him. He looked so sad and frightened, it broke her heart to see him in this present wretched state.

His eyes hurt more when she said that. He let her see him cry a second time. When the first hot tear ran down his face, he looked away. He was thinking, what a profound monster he was. To force her to be wed to him. "I'm guilty..."

"Just forgive yourself, like how I forgive you Seymour."

"I forced you to marry me." He breathed in a self-accusatory manner.

"You didn't! I had a choice, and I chose you." Yuna insisted, holding his huge hands and tenderly stroking his palms with her thumbs. Her hands fit in his easily, looking tiny next to them.

"I have always hated myself, and now I hate myself even more so." He grated through his teeth as he grimaced, "Yuna..."

"Seymour! What's wrong!"

"I feel another one of my episodes... I feel.." He swallowed, his head was spinning. He felt his hands going cold and numb, and as though his mind was falling apart as if it were wet paper. As the world around him dissolved into nothingness, he heard her...

"No Seymour, breathe. Control yourself, I'm here for you."

He steadied his breathing, ignoring how rapid his heart rate was. Pretending that he did not see the points of light in his closed eyes, pretending that everything was all right.

"I'm here for you Seymour." Looking into his blue eyes, oh! All his formidable strength gone in his stare, reduced to this!

Seymour was standing so close to madness, although his eyes were wide and staring, he could not see clearly his surroundings. It was like being encased in layers and layers of smothering frosted glass. Obeying her, obeying what he loved, he steadied his erratic breathing.

As his breathing calmed, and as his inflamed mind tried to make sense of it all Yuna's soprano voice spoke, "Let's go home."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

In the manor, Tromell and Pescal served them dinner. Which was a brief affair because neither husband nor wife had much of an appetite. Yuna watched Seymour in dismay drinking his wine, then whiskey. When she told him to come upstairs into the master bedroom with her he did so without protest.

At the curved marble and wood stairs Yuna imagined that he would not even be able to reach the top, but Lord Seymour held his alcohol very well. He went in and laid himself on the daybed, his eyes were dull. Not from drink but from what he learnt about himself today.

Yuna's presence was so calming, she sat with him on the daybed. Although she did not say anything, he was happy that she did not hate him, or felt disgust for him. Her scent told him that she was determined and unafraid of him. So unlike how she smelt when he first met her. "Seymour, you look awful."

"I will be fine in time." He replied, tired from so much mental activity. He sighed and looked around the cosy room, the soft moss carpet, the rich ornate fabrics covering the bed, and the long curtains flapping in the night breeze.

The heavy wooden door knocked, and the low voice of Pescal sounded through the lacquered wood. "I have master Seymour's earlier requested port."

Yuna and Seymour spoke at the same time.

"Pardon?" Asked Pescal, stepping into the lamp-lit room. In one hand he held a port-filled decanter, in the other a clear crystal shot glass.

"No." Said Yuna shaking her head.

Seymour had his hand stretched out in his butler's direction, "Give it to me."

Pescal alternated glancing at Seymour and at Yuna, his purple-clawed hands gripping the objects with uncertainty.

"Pescal keep the port." Said Yuna.

"Bring it here."

"No!"

"Put it here."

Yuna took a long calculative look at him narrowing her eyes, he was leaning with his eyes closed against the maroon arm of the day bed. She shook her head, "Pescal, take it away."

Pescal hesitated, then with uncertain and unsteady steps put the decanter onto the round side-table next to the daybed. "Forgive me Lady Yuna. Good night my Lord, call me if you are in need of anything." He turned and left.

Seymour poured himself a shot in the glass, and was about to drink when Yuna held his hand. Yuna frowned, pushing Seymour gently. "You're drunk!"

"I am not."

"You are!" Yuna said, pouting. She refused to let go of his hand, holding the cold glass with port.

"Yuna I need my port." He looked at her. "Would you deny your husband relief?"

There was a familiar glint of mischief in her eyes. With gentle force, she wrenched the glass out of his hand and spilling a few drops of the liquid down her front she emptied its contents into her mouth.

"What are you doing?" Asked Seymour, smiling. Amused by what she did.

"Let's be drunk together Seymour."

The expression on his face changed, he leant onto her trapping her between himself and the daybed, his hands firmly on the maroon velvet. In that movement he demonstrated to her how much more strength he had left in him. "I am not drunk. I am just merry."

"Seymour if you're not drunk, then what are you like when you are?"

Still in that forceful position over her, he said licentiously flashing his teeth with a smile, "Let me drink all my port so that I can show you in an hour."

"No."

"Why not?" He asked suggestively, staring at her pink lips. He was breathing slowly through his mouth.

"Seymour stop it." She giggled, her twinkling deep green and blue eyes looking into his. "The only way you are having any more alcohol, is if you let me drink along with you... And I know you're not a Casanova."

Seymour laughed and relaxed his hold over her. With him so close, he was pleased to see that she was blushing, her fair skin was tinted pink. "How would you know that I'm not, won't you let me show you?" He asked.

Yuna laughed and daintily shook her head. "From drinking so much I don't think you can-"

"Don't think I can what?" He interrupted her closing his hand, using his knuckles he stroked her face, his other hand pressing her smooth back, the only thing separating their warm bodies was their clothing.

She did not reply, but smiled and shyly averted her eyes. Her heart beating steadily.

Seymour repeated himself, more quietly and putting his face closer to Yuna's. His burning desire for her dominated his smooth tenor voice, "... Don't think I can what?"

Yuna lowered her eyelids, clasped her white hands on the back of his neck, and whispered into his pointed ear her warm breath caressing it, "I don't think you can even stand."

"For you I can." He murmured, holding her cheek wanting to kiss her. He tilted his head...

Only allowing his lips to touch hers briefly, she turned her face to rest on his chest. "Not tonight Seymour, you smell like alcohol."

"I see. So I am not allowed to kiss you like this." He said, disappointed.

She replied by sweetly caressing his neck with her lips. He found his arms around her, holding her petite body against his, his eyes closing in ecstasy. He bent his head further backwards, trusting her with that defenceless part of his body, listening to the carnal sounds of her quiet kisses. She whispered, addressing him in her sweet voice, "... my husband."

The lord and his lady allowed sultry languor masked with comfort to steal over their cuddling forms. They remained enclasped in that secret embrace, expressing their innermost feelings for each other through soft and gentle touch. Sighing, feeling so safe in each other's warm arms. Forgetting about the world, for nothing could spoil this precious moment.

Seymour's expression changed when he felt Yuna shift in his lap, possessively he tensed his arms around her, yet his tone quiet and submissive he asked, "Tired of me?" Anxiously he searched her scent for discomfort.

She knelt in his lap, so that her face was level with his, her hands on his shoulders. "Of course not Seymour." She answered, with her hands stroking his blue hair. "I'm just sleepy, let's go take a shower and then go to bed." She pulled open his overcoat and vest.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"My Lord, you have a letter from Bevelle."

At his office first thing in the morning, Seymour acknowledged his clerk, and went into his office. Settling at his dark-brown desk, he opened the single white letter sitting on top of the daily newspaper.

_Maester Seymour Guado,_

_You are to report to Highbridge in two day's time for an important briefing. You are reminded to bring your stave for safety reasons. The briefing will be at nine in the morning._

_I suggest you read Spira's recent newspapers today._

_Yours truly,_

_Abbot Genla writing on request by Maester Mika_

He put the letter aside and picked up the crisp newspaper, knitting his brows as he examined it. He looked at the front page:

--

**OPERATION MI'IHEN SESSION ON COURSE**

**Maester Kinoc has announced the official date for the operation, and has reassured the public that the summoners will be found. He claims that the temple of Yevon is doing all that it can in searching for them. His parting words were, "May Yevon smile down and have mercy on us, letting the summoners fight Sin to bring the calm."**

**--**

Seymour thought silently to himself, 'I thought that the mission was to be stalled longer...' He turned to the next page.

**--**

**MAN COMMITS PUBLIC SUICIDE AT KILIKA TEMPLE**

**A man believed to be mentally unsound jumped to his death from the elevated height of Kilika temple yesterday. Bystanders report that the hour before the man jumped, he yelled claiming, "It is the end of the world! Sin will be here forever, the end is near! The summoners have abandoned us!"**

**Monks from the temple said that the man repeated himself over and over again, when a monk tried to make the unknown Yevonite man leave he promptly jumped off the platform and down into the jungle below.**

**His mangled corpse was found later impaled on a sharp tree branch.**

**--**

Sickened, he put away the newspaper and did his usual office work. When he was done, he routinely left for snowy Macalania temple to do his daily duties as High Priest. After visiting his temple, he went to tutor his class in an agitated mood.

Today, class was held in the forest. Although his exterior was as calm as always, his students sensed his unusually tense mood. No-one fooled around with their fiends. Not even Bramble with his orange bomb, which was hovering overhead.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"You there! Be careful with that!"

The iron bars of the cage groaned from the beating it was taking from a shrieking and struggling Sin spawn. The spawn thrashed around madly, clicking its twitching mandibles. Drool was dripping off its seemingly squashed and deformed face.

"Sorry Sir." Said a burly young Crusader, pushing the heavy cage into place.

"Don't be so tense, it will get tired and be quiet soon enough." Said Kinoc, staring at the ugly creature behind thick bars. If it were indoors, everyone would have lost their hearing, from the spawn's shrieks echoing off the walls.

The young Crusader hurriedly ran off with the sun shining brightly overhead, before his plump superior could penalise him on anything further.

Kinoc looked at the five cages, lined up in the open. On the day of the operation, the five separate spawn would be herded and forced together in a single cage. Then Sin would come for the spawn, now larger and therefore something more worth coming for. After making sure everything was fine, he turned and went to see the metal Al Bhed machina weapons that were shipped in a large crate.

His favourite machina weapon was one that was hand-held. Not the flame-thrower, but this strange contraption called a "rail-gun." He liked these because they were much less tiring to use than traditional arms, and he would not need to get his clothing blood-stained. (Ew.) The very idea that a single shot in the right place, in the head for instance would kill. So much more effective!

In two day's Mika would be giving a briefing on the mission. He had to admit, he thought that the feeble old man was going to stall further. But he was wrong. He was going to go on with it!

Kinoc felt that Maester Mika was a very, very complex character. At times when passing judgement, he could be devoid of a heart and feelings. Oddly he would show compassion, especially when concerning the masses not the individual.

A consolation was that Seymour would be easy to co-operate with this time. Like him, Seymour had a fondness of killing off underlings and lesser people. Kinoc knew about that, although Maester Seymour said nothing about it or showed much of any expression he could tell he liked killing people. No, _loved_ killing people. The sadist.

During the last time, there was this "light" in Seymour's eyes when people perished like flames being snuffed out at the shore. Kinoc rubbed his sticky chin in thought. (Or was it because his lady Summoner of whom he was head over heels for present? No matter. This would be another fun mission. He was sure of it!)

Standing there as the hot wind blew, while an Al Bhed nearby cleaned a cannon Kinoc inwardly rejoiced like an ecstatic child given a present in fancy wrapping.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"What happened Seymour? I heard from priest Wenex that you had to send a dead Hypello this afternoon." Yuna asked, running out from the reading room of the manor to greet her husband in the hall. It was already well into the night, nearing bedtime.

Seymour held out his hand to his wife, who took it. Not answering her question, he asked "Have you eaten?"

"Yes."

He sighed, "Good. I have too." He put his broad hands on her slender shoulders, and laid his blue-veined forehead on the top of her head. "I was worried that you waited for me."

They went back into the reading room. He showed her the front page of the news.

"No!" She cried when she saw the headline.

"It's more than just that Yuna. The public has been restless, a riot happened at Moonflow this afternoon. A Hypello was killed by accident. I do not even know the full and exact details, but I heard it involved an argument about the Temple of Yevon."

"How did the Hypello die?" Asked Yuna, wearing an expression of dismay.

"Some way or other... his little body was intact, but half of his skull was crushed." Seymour decided not to tell her the part about the Hypello's gooey and bloody brains oozing out at one spot, when he sent the Hypello's remains that was put in the halls of his temple.

Yuna shook her head, "So to keep the public entertained, you will go ahead with the operation?"

Seymour looked down at the wooden floor and shook his head unhappily, "I do not want to Yuna. People will be suffering."

Yuna closed her eyes and covered her mouth, she whispered, "All those people..."

"For you Yuna, I will try and stop the mission then."

She shook her head, "You will be punished Seymour! I don't want that, and after they keep you locked somewhere, they will just go ahead. Don't."

"Perhaps... I will be reporting to Bevelle soon to Highbridge for a briefing on the operation. I should see and hear the full details of it before I plan anything or jump to any conclusions."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"All present and punctual as usual." Maester Mika sighed at Highbridge, standing on the red carpet. Birds far off could be heard greeting the morning. He turned to face his council, because it was just a short-briefing they were standing. No seats had been placed there. He began, "I shall be quick and direct about this. Operation Mi'ihen session 2 will have no casualties at all, because Sin will not even be called-"

"What?! But Maester Mika-"

Mika the old one ignored Kinoc's shocked interruption. "We will stage an obvious and elaborate failure, even before the five spawn fuse together. Maesters Seymour and Kinoc will be the exhibitionists."

Seymour's brows lowered quickly, as he stared curiously at Maester Mika suspicious of what was being planned.

High Maester Mika continued in his signature calm tone without so much as furrowing his white brows, "Among Spira's gossip columns Maesters Seymour and Kinoc have mutual feelings of indifference to each other. The both of them will stage a convincing fight, leading to the utter and complete failure of the mission."

Seymour sullenly remained silent, thinking while Kinoc spluttered, "But Maester Mika! Won't the public have further contempt for the Temple of Yevon?"

"They will. But doing this will provide us the useful device of stalling, and allowing the public to gossip." Mika tentatively stroked his white beard, "Simultaneously, Maester Kelk will be visiting the Al Bhed again, to persuade them to let the kidnapped summoners go."

The group of a dozen people stood there with Maester Mika, contemplating what he just said. What he planned was most unexpected, but actually rather practical. The public had been too restless lately, and at the moment they still managed to cover up the little riots and fights that had been happening all over Spira. But it was not likely that they could keep the precarious situation in their favour for much longer, a diversion was desperately needed.

Maester Mika beckoned to plump Kinoc and tall Seymour. "My sons, come here." Watching them step forward, he muttered with disapproval in his aged voice. "There is no need for me to tell you both to make it look realistic. In fact I had better caution you both to make sure it is not _too_ convincing." Maester Mika briefly had an image of one of the two ruthlessly throttling the other's neck with a frenzied maniacal grin.

**End Of Chapter Twenty One**

••••••••••••••••

This chapter is dedicated to **Evil Flaming Kat Of Doom**

who is bracing big, bad hurricane Ike in Texas.

13-14 SEPTEMBER 2008

Kat? If you survive the madness, please let us all know as a fellow reader.


	22. On Stage

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X fan-fic

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

--

"Tromell... If only I could 'accidentally' kill Kinoc." Said Seymour casually in his quiet voice, leaning back on his velvet seat in the shining dining room of the large manor.

Yuna was still out teaching her choir, and Seymour was back early from work. He was being served tea by Tromell, and presently he was very bored.

"My Lord?" Asked Tromell, pouring him hot tea from a grey stone teapot.

"I very much so want him dead." Repeated Seymour calmly, the manner in which he spoke contrasted sharply with what he truly felt.

"Sir, Lady Yuna would be upset if she heard you." Tromell said witheringly, his bushy green brows sagging into a sad expression.

Seymour put his hands together with his elbows on the table cloth, and replied drily. "It is precisely why I'm only saying it now, when she is absent." Noticing that his man servant was remaining respectfully quiet he prodded, "I give you permission to speak freely."

"Lady Yuna was upset that night about your alcoholism Sir." Tromell commented, standing nearby.

Looking up at the chandelier for a moment and tapping his blue claws on the table, Lord Seymour replied knowing full well that Tromell could smell his remorse, "I was well aware. You know it is how I habitually deal with stress and. My episodes."

"What I meant to say was, you drank much more than usual my Lord." Remarked Tromell.

The half-breed nodded, "Not to worry Tromell. I am fine, just some conflict in my mind..."

"Are you sure master Seymour?" Tromell bowed, "I still cannot help but worry about you."

"Do not worry about me now. Worry for me when I leave for the mission. This... conflict in my mind is actually for me to become a better being."

Tromell nodded, "I see my Lord."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Forcing Yuna to stay home where it was safe in Guadosalam, Seymour calmly stared up at the massive spawn banging mindlessly on the solid bars of its confines, trying and failing to get at him. Its roars ringing sharply in the air.

In fifteen minute's time or so, the planned-to-be-botched operation would begin. He was outside in his place, among the restless crusaders collecting his private thoughts. The compound this time was arranged in a circular shape, with the control station at one side, and the cages on the other.

"An honour to be fighting alongside you sir!" Came a voice next to him.

He answered smoothly, "The pleasure is all mine." Instead of looking at the young boy who spoke to him, he was watching Kinoc who came from across the gathering towards him.

"Nice sunny day isn't it Seymour?" Said Kinoc, smiling sweetly. Today, he was dressed in his sporting outfit instead of his priest's robes.

"Come to taunt me before the 'operation' even begins?" Seymour narrowed his eyes in classy distaste.

"Since you've reminded me. I see you're getting vain Seymour, ever since you got married to that wench you've started tying your hair back. I must say though, the former horned fiend-look suited you better." Kinoc stepped closer to Seymour, and tilted his head up and said softly, "You're pathetic."

Seymour's face remained impassive, but his hands closed over his steel stave in controlled indignation from that insult. Kinoc left for his station to stand with his warrior monks, being in the public eye they held long spears and broad swords instead of flame-throwers and other machina weapons.

For this mission, Kinoc would give the speech. Presently the bald Maester raised his hands confidently for attention. He gave a speech that made the troops excited. Inwardly Seymour shook his head at how naive these young men and women could be, blinded by hope that they might defeat Sin. The organisers from Bevelle had made sure that all this would not be missed. There was a sphere crew, from various news broadcasting channels.

Seymour's azure eyes roved the cheering crowd, he could smell many emotions as many as there were colours of the rainbow. Most were excited, some apprehensive. The most unsettling smell to him was restlessness, and thirst for bloody action and violence. His eyes strayed again to the cages filled with Sin spawn.

The minutes ticked by excruciatingly slowly, like waiting for water to boil. It was all in the same place, same spot. He closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the sounds of distant waves crashing onto the brown sandy beach. He watched, the crusaders and warrior monks file down, where the waves were. Leaving only himself and accursed Kinoc with him on the cliff, with the cages of infernal spawn.

Somewhere, hiding in one of the Al Bhed machina vehicles was a man holding a trigger, when the time was correct, he would press it, opening one of the cages by "accident."

"So Seymour, nicer weather today for this second mission don't you think?" Asked Kinoc who was already sweating, standing with Seymour in front of the machina control panel for the spawn cages.

"Isn't it just lovely." Said Seymour sarcastically. "All the better for people to watch on their spheres at home. Mi 'ihen 2 _live_."

Both of them stood there for a moment in awkward and somehow for Seymour - irritating silence, waiting for the safely hidden trigger man to do his part.

Soon enough, there was the harsh unmistakable sound of iron and steel grating against each other, and one of the cages fell open. The parts falling hard onto the dry ground caused dust to fly.

The exhibition began quickly. Kinoc spoke to Seymour, certain that they couldn't be heard from that distance by anyone. "Even married you're still a homosexual Seymour, I bet my life you still haven't had sex with her."

Seymour's throat clenched tightly at that remark. His hands trembled, and began to burn, it felt as though he had a red-hot brand very close to his skin. He put them up in a stance, in his anger he forgot about his stave right next to him. He swiped at Kinoc with his fist but missed.

Fat Kinoc was surprisingly fast to retreat, he was off the platform, and upon the dusty ground. He held up his arm to steady the confused troops below the cliff. "You're pathetic Seymour!"

Both men were very aware of the spawn slithering out of the cage. Unfortunately they were not told of which of the cages would 'accidentally' break apart, and it had to be the one holding the largest.

The half-Guado yelled and cast Blizzara, but was struck off the platform when he realised Kinoc had cast Reflect over his pudgy person. Bare-fisted physical attacks then, so much the better. Reeling from Kinoc's magic, he fought him. His bare chest suffered from scorches and burns.

Kinoc rubbed his blood-stained mouth, and taunted relentlessly. "I know why Seymour, you're impotent."

Before Seymour could retort, the black slimy tail of the spawn came down upon them both. Seymour yelled not in pain but in hot frustration, he was kept from getting to his adversary. When the black extremity of the monster lifted he cursed when he remembered his priest's staff was back at the control panel.

He felt a sharp pain in his shin, and then it felt warm suddenly. His satin robe was stained dark with his blood, he had been pierced somehow by the monster. He cast his magic, releasing the monster's hold on him as it screamed harshly. Then he felt more throbbing pain in his shin, like something was being slowly pulled through his flesh.

He watched the creature writhe and withdraw. Standing, feeling his own blood flow, from behind he heard gun shots. Seymour agonisingly turned around and saw Kinoc far away, pointing his machina weapon right at him. The idiot fired, and then a hot and sharp pain erupted in Seymour's shoulder. More careless shots were fired in that direction, he was acting as though he was so desperate to gun down the spawn, that it did not matter if his fellow Maester got killed in the process.

Seymour roared, cast Flare at Kinoc and ran towards him intent on doing grievous harm. Although Kinoc's reflect had worn off, he still wanted to get brutal and physical.

Kinoc shouted, "Why don't you summon that aeon of yours, did the bullets hurt?"

"It did, but not enough!" He hissed, landing a blow into his adversary's pale face.

In the distance, Mika sorrowfully watched as three sphere-camera men enthusiastically shot, and recorded the uncivilised and disgraceful scene. The recorded scenes switched occasionally to the confused and surprised troops at the beach, who had turned spectators.

Now the original first spawn had both struggling men in its flabby claws, as two more spawn's cage was broken open.

Hating the situation, Seymour and Kinoc knew very well that if they did not kill the spawn, this exhibition would fail. The worst would happen, Sin would actually come. Seymour strategically cast Firaga, taking one of the spawn's watery eyes out.

Behind them at the other end, the two spawn had already begun to fuse, their armoured hides parting as their insides mixed. Finishing, and now twice as large it bowled another cage over, banging open its cover.

There were shouts, and the troops did not wait and follow orders. Defiantly they rushed up to the rocky cliff.

"Stand down, return to the shore!" Yelled Kinoc, casting Demi on the nearest spawn lifting it off the ground and sending it back crashing down hard and heavy. Shrieking, it fell and toppled hopelessly over the crumbling edge of the cliff, falling to its fate on the jagged rocks below.

"Negative Sir!" Shouted the captain with his determined men.

"Fall back!" Ordered Seymour, with his stave in his hand he threw it hard into the side of a spawn. But he was too late, it had already crushed a few reckless crusaders. There were supposed to be no casualties! He retrieved his stave, forgetting about his bleeding leg and bloody Kinoc, he forced himself into overdrive.

The ground was a place of disarray and mess. There was no control and order, all were just fighting the spawn randomly. It was as though anything would go. It was clear that the mission was a complete failure, Mika watched satisfied but worried from far away. Perhaps the soldiers disobeying was a good thing. He hoped and held his breath for less deaths, as the last cage violently broke apart, scattering reddish-brown rust in the vicinity.

Seymour's vision was blurred, as he moved letting out all his tension. With his sharp stave, he carved open the brittle exoskeleton of the nearest monster, jabbing it far into its soft, pale and bloodless body tissue. Disgusting. There were thick tendons within, and what appeared to be bone and sticky marrow. The scream that came from the monster was deafening, slicing right through the air, keen and merciless.

He heard vague shouts as he removed another limb of the writhing monster. ("Seymour, you idiot! Summon your aeon now and finish this!!") The voice of Maester Kinoc was but an irritant to him, but through the smell of distress that the spawn was reeking of, he smelt the sharp scent of panic. The soldiers were scared.

Even in that altered state of overdrive, his heart wrenched in guilt at what he was about to do. He closed his cold blue eyes and whispered, praying. "Anima... come."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"Teacher?"

"Remember, when we're out of class, my name is 'Yuna.' Come say it together now, _Yuna_!" She laughed light-heartedly.

"Yuna." Said Lasder, bowing. "Today's lesson was fun!"

"But tea- Yuna why?" Asked Lapp.

"Guys, it just feels so weird! I mean, I'm just three to four years older than you all!" Reasoned Yuna, clasping her hands together in the cold.

"But we still respect you. As our dear leader's Lady." Said Noya, nodding her head once.

"Thank you, I am honoured." Said Yuna, smiling.

They were walking in the snow that crunched under their feet as they did, on the way back to Guadosalam from Macalania temple.

"Are you going somewhere Yuna?" Asked Maris curiously.

"Actually yes, I'm going to visit the Farplane."

Her students bowed their heads respectfully for a moment in silence. When they saw their teacher run ahead of them in the white and cold snow, they allowed her to leave. It was a private matter for their teacher.

"Since she's gone, I can say what I like about what I heard from Pogrom." Said Lapp. "Lord Seymour specifically told the younglings to not watch Operation Mi'ihen 2 live."

"Why though? Does Lady Yuna know that it will be on live?" Wondered Noya aloud.

Lasder coughed, "I think it would be unhealthy, there's bound to be violence. I don't know what's Spira coming to, putting such things on sphere broadcast... And no, I don't think she does."

Maris breathed out, her breath fogging in the cold air. "It's bound to get worse, I can smell it."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

At the Farplane, Yuna stood stoically on the mysterious floating platform. How it was suspended in the air, no-one knew or ever found out. Here... the weather was unchanging, eternal and strangely beautiful. No wind, just the sound of pyre flies singing.

Presently, she was staring at her deceased mother and father. She meditated, wondering what they would want her to do. Then after a few moments of bitter and sweet nostalgia, she purged her mind of them and proceeded with her original reason for visiting the revered Farplane.

The thought was scary and uncomfortable, but she steadied her resolve and thought hard of Lord Jyscal. Her late father-in-law. His form materialised in front of her. He looked normal, for it is only when souls escape the Farplane, do they take on rotting and zombie-like appearances, reflecting their unsettled hearts for wanting to escape the Farplane for unfinished business.

Jyscal was just there, floating. Yuna looked at his aged face, he appeared so strict! Usually it was not possible to communicate with the dead, but... it was worth a try. By theory it would be like praying to the fayth at a temple.

She heard his voice, desperate and bone weary. "If only... he could forgive what we did to him..."

She half-opened her eyes, and stared at the unmoving manifestation of Lord Jyscal. His gaze tired, and yet at the same time alert. She thought to him, communicating to him through emotion, "I made him serve his punishment for murdering you... you shouldn't be angry anymore..."

"I am not angry." Was the mental reply from Jyscal's spirit. But it was all he said, no matter how much Yuna seeked more answers, he remained silent. Unmoving. When she tried a final time, he told her, "Your husband is in danger, return home."

Unsure of what he meant by that, she returned suspiciously to the manor. She thought to herself that she would come by another time to have this solved.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Greeting her at the large double-doors of the manor, Tromell said bowing, "You are in just in time for Mi' ihen live. It should be on the news channel right about now."

She hurried into the hall. Turning on the sphere projector, Yuna watched with shock and horror Mi'ihen live, the commentator practically yelling what was happening. She remembered Seymour telling her that there would be a staged failure, but he did not tell her exactly what was going to happen.

On the flashing screen, was Seymour's chilling aeon. Its single sapphire eye bleeding while it fought, its hands wringing in misery. She searched for him in the rippling crowd, but he was nowhere to be seen. Here and there were bodies. What looked like the innards of spawn was everywhere. Shreds and sticky masses of it. By the looks of the green fumes, they looked poisonous.

The voice of the commentator animatedly shouted, "Looks like Maester Kinoc is still going strong, he'll have to answer for the machina weapon he's using though. Where is Maester Seymour Guado? Look at the carnage his aeon is capable of!"

Yuna knew he had to be somewhere, an aeon was incapable of acting or remaining in the physical plane if its summoner was knocked out.

"... Whoa! Looks like the two Maesters are at it again folks! Right after Maester Seymour's aeon beat the spawn!"

There he was, robes and all bloodied he was fighting with Kinoc. She screamed out loud when she saw Kinoc fire at Seymour with his gun. Then the screen went blank, the next was Maester Mika on the screen, saying that there was nothing left to film. Then it was cut to the commentator sitting before a desk.

Yuna turned off the sphere projector and sat down, closing her eyes in worry.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Ignoring all his injuries and by the fact that he might fall unconscious any moment, he threw aside his filthy stave, the colours all dull from blood and dirt. He raised his fists and continued. No one dared to stop their fist fight. He was thankful that he somehow managed to find Kinoc in the confusing crowd.

Maester Mika came onto the site, without needing to say anything, the crowd parted for him, gesturing the sign of Yevon, and kneeling. The old man raised his voice. "That is enough. Look at yourselves!"

Allowing his soaring fatigue to overpower his hate, Seymour sank to the flat ground in respect to Mika. He consoled himself that he at least managed to break Kinoc's nose. It was bleeding profusely, and Kinoc was coughing on his own blood.

He turned around, and raised his long-sleeved arms, saying to the troops. "You are all dismissed. Get help for the injured. The mission is over."

When the soldiers were far away, and out of hearing range, Mika said, his voice once again in its usual fatherly composition. "I am disappointed. No matter. It was still convincing, the exhibition was a success. The both of you, rise from the ground and seek a healer." He looked at them up and down. Injured, bruised, and hurt from various magic and spells. "I advise against going back to Bevelle, press will be there."

For a brief moment, Seymour exchanged a single glance with Kinoc. He looked murderous, his beady little eyes glistening with pure malice. He knew, it was because Kinoc's bullets did not find their intended targets. Seymour knew, he either had to kill Kinoc, or Kinoc would kill him.

But today was not the one. Getting up with difficulty and limping away with pain, Seymour thought, 'No. I must not. For Yuna will be upset. I just must be careful.'

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

He reached home very late. Gaudosalam was dark and completely silent, the air all still and eerie. He got out of the wooden carriage, and waved the sleepy driver off. He had earlier healed himself with potions, but his body still ached and stung in certain places.

He entered the mansion, made his way up the curved stairs, past the gloomy and serious portraits of the former leaders of Guadosalam and into the master bedroom.

"Seymour?" Came her soft and demure voice.

"Yes." In the dark, he smelt her scent, as he caught her in his weak arms. While he hugged her, he could tell that she was already in her night gown. He grimaced in pain, thinking that she would not be able to see him in the light.

"Are you still hurt?" She asked.

He felt her cold fingers searching his skin for any breaks and injuries. He shrank from her touch when he felt her tracing his collar bone. It had already mended, but the area still hurt.

Yuna whispered, "I saw on the sphere three bullet holes."

Seymour held her, heaving her up and carried her placing her onto the soft bed. "I am better now..." He said gently, he stifled a yawn. "Do not let me disturb you, go to sleep."

She caught his thick wrist. "Where are you going, aren't you coming to bed?"

He clasped her small hand in his. "I want nothing more than to be close to you my dear. Let me change first." After he did, he climbed into bed and cradled her. "I am fine Yuna. I missed you for those few days..." He smelt her relief, and held her close feeling the warmth of her body.

"I've missed you too." Yuna laid her ear on his chest, and began to listen to his heartbeat. Perhaps for now, she would keep it a secret as she was trying to find out why Lord Jyscal refused to rest in peace.

He breathed in deeply, "You are still unwell although I am here. What's wrong Yuna?"

She took her ear off his chest and replied, smiling a little. "It's nothing, I'm just worried that you're still in pain." She felt him stroke her back reassuringly and affectionately.

"I forget about it, with you here." Seymour murmured sincerely, falling asleep. And yet as he did, Yuna felt that hands still held hers until the last moment of his conscience.

--

**End of Chapter Twenty-Two**

•••••••••

**This chapter is dedicated to the people who have this story on alert:**

Bright Lotus, Darkangel Guard, DeathAngelsEriiko, DestinyStarX12, Eine Kleine Katze, Forever Child-ish, Foreveralone16, Innocent Dimande, Lucrecia LeVrai, Manga Girl number 6, Moonshine's Guide, Necrosame, Supon, Takhira, bahamutchar, frailynxdresden, mieuwings, moonmuse, shyshion.

**& Blue Huntress;**

who made me update slightly faster.

_Dear readers, forgive me for taking this long to update. (Bloody Art school A.K.A. No-lifer campus, and my morale has been running low.)_

_I hope you all will forgive me. So, still enjoying this story? I'll have another one of my Art works of Seymour and Yuna up soon enough. Should be with the next chapter..._

_Yours truly,_

_Master Of Sorrow_


	23. Strangers in the Night

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X fan-fic

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

--

"You look splendid my dear." Crooned Seymour, holding Yuna's obi around her waist. They were standing in front of the tall and broad dressing mirror, within the lavish Maester's Quarters in Bevelle. Being in the night, the heavy purple curtains were drawn closed.

Yuna laughed, "I'm not even fully dressed yet!" She reached and fastened Seymour's black collar, then she turned around, allowing her husband to tie her pastel beige obi.

"I am surprised that you wanted to come..."

"I know it'll be boring." She tip-toed, with her hands on his shoulders, making a funny face at him.

"It will be insanely so." Seymour hid a smile, putting his long arms around her.

Yuna's expression changed into a darker one. "And also because I don't want you to be..." She fell silent, her arms linked around his waist. Her hands clutching his thick clothing from behind.

"Don't want me to be what?" He asked gently, running his aquamarine claws carefully through her soft and silky brunette hair.

"Kinoc. I won't forgive him for gunning you. I know if you see him there alone..."

He put his chin on top of Yuna's head and replied, "You know me well then my lady. I shan't pick fights in your presence." Seymour smelt her slight anxiety and asked, "Would you like me to kill him?"

"Seymour!"

"I was just jesting. Forgive me." He teased, putting his huge hands upon her slender shoulders, and he turned her to face the mirror. He put his mouth closer to her ear and said, "I could just eat you."

The lady summoner watched her husband close his eyes, and gasped in surprise when she felt his breath tickle her ear, causing him to draw back with an apologetic gleam in his eyes.

"We should be going now..." Said Seymour, offering Yuna his arm and was pleasantly surprised that she pulled him lower, so that she could kiss him on the cheek.

"You just scared me there, I don't fear you." She said softly to him.

The two once again turned to see themselves in the mirror. She was in pale and subtle colours of pastel rose and beige. A graceful bareback, her hair as usual. She looked sweet and natural, with a red choker. He was dressed this time conservatively, his chest covered with his black and dark brown robes. He had a red frill tie to match Yuna's choker.

They arrived at the Yevon formal occasion just on time. Seymour called it "needless socialising." Yuna saw it as keeping the peace, and for this night they were to interact with high society, of Spira's glitterati and socialites. Dominant as the temple of Yevon was, it was not without its sponsors.

The vast rock and shining marble hall was packed with well-dressed folk, holding glasses of alcohol while they stood around. On a long table were various fine foods and exotic wines. From above hung a colossal crystal chandelier, from which held at least a thousand candles. The frivolous chatter mingled with the sound of music as an instrumental band played.

Ever the gentleman, at the table Seymour poured them two glasses of cordial and handed Yuna one. He said, "This will go on for at least three hours." He looked up at the dazzling chandelier.

Yuna sipped the cold and sweet drink. "It couldn't be that bad, let's dance later to pass the time." Smiled Yuna, looking up at him. The light of the candles reflected in her expressive blue and green eyes.

An old and wavering voice came from behind. "How lovely to see that you both are getting along well!" It was Lord Mika, dressed in formal priest's robes.

Seymour and Yuna bowed, and greeted the wizened Maester.

Maester Mika continued, "If only the situation could be truly like the calm manner we speak in."

Seymour and Yuna exchanged regretful glances. They knew very well what he meant. Things were getting really crazy as of late. The public remained ignorant that the Al Bhed were the ones keeping the summoners captive. Heretics banded together, and there were riots against the Yevon religion. There had been nothing like this in the history of the temple. The most recent, was an all out attack on Djose temple.

The hunched Maester shook his head unhappily. Momentarily raising his bushy white eyebrows he said, "Well, at least enjoy the ball." Then with a polite gesture, he turned around and left.

To cover more ground, Yuna suggested that they split up. Presently she was speaking to a baron, and what he was speaking about was completely unrelated to the current crisis. Smiling politely at the man, she inwardly agreed with Seymour that this was horribly dry. As dry as a dried fruit.

After the baron, there was this middle-aged couple, who kept talking about their "delightful grandchildren." Behind them, Yuna glanced around for her husband. She saw him far-off, with a glass of juice which looked tiny in his hand. His lips were moving casually, his face impassive and confident. Yuna giggled slightly knowing that was not the case inside.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"Whoa! Cool down ya?" Exclaimed Wakka. Sitting with him at the bar at Luca, was Tidus and the rest of his blitzball team. There were there for a minor tournament.

The bar fell silent as the angry man sitting in the corner, stood up agitatedly and threw down his beer mug onto the floor. "Cool down how brother?! The summoners are all gone man!" The man roared, his eyes and face red from drink.

The man's companion who was wearing a patterned red bandanna shook his head, observing the whole thing. The only sound came from the sphere screen that was still on.

Tidus said, waving, "No use getting angry right?"

The man kicked the beer mug out of the way, and stormed out of the bar after rudely throwing a few gil to the bartender.

Botta sighed. "Cap'n. What's been happening?"

Again the usual noise and ambience came back, as the other customers and drinkers assumed their personal conversations. Wakka shook his head, "The summoners had better be found soon."

"Just like the fight that happened yesterday at the stadium ya?" Commented Keepa.

"That was nuts." Said Tidus putting his hands on his head.

Jassu and Letty were just staring off into space recalling the incident the day before. When some Yevon-haters offended a pack of Ronso blitzball players by the docks.

It was in broad daylight. No one was sure how it started, but they recalled how it ended. One of the Yevon-haters had his back and neck snapped. Anyone knew it was not a wise thing to anger a Ronso, let alone a pack of them. One of the Ronso yelled "Blasphemy! Blasphemy!" Over and over, while he stamped upon the writhing man rolling on the pavement.

Guards had to come in to stop the fight, just when pyre flies were beginning to swarm around the man's body. The last they heard, the man was in critical condition lying in a hospital somewhere.

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About an hour had passed at least. Seymour occasionally stole glances at Yuna, while he listened to the human broken-recorder standing before him. He was getting increasingly bored with this meaningless banter. It was about as annoying as listening to a faucet drip in the night. His Yuna was speaking to the charming captain of the guard, and he was horrified when the band began to play a romantic tune for dancing. The man shamelessly led her in a waltz.

The title of the ballad was "Strangers in the Night."

He excused himself and went to the table, wondering if or not he should pour himself a hard drink. He did not like the way the man held her, he was too close... Was she smiling at him, was she actually enjoying the man's attention? Seymour tried to reign in his emotions and turned his attention to the alcoholic beverages before him.

Enviously he thought that it should be him, leading her in the dance as the slow and tender music played. He looked at the drinks, remembering that she did not like him drunk. That she found the lingering stench of alcohol very unpleasant.

"Good evening Seymour."

Seymour ignored Maester Kinoc completely, still watching Yuna dance with that suave stranger. He didn't care if Kinoc insulted him again, or commented that he was similar to the late Lord Jyscal. There was no crowd, no Kinoc. Only Yuna with that bloody stranger, wandering together in the night.

"... you're pathetic Seymour. Maybe she knows that you're homosexual, and now she's seeking excitement elsewhere."

"You had better keep well away from my wife Kinoc." Spoke Seymour, scowling.

Kinoc laughed, "Maybe I'd like a reason to go to the Via Purifico again..." He turned and left, satisfied that he had harassed Seymour enough for the evening. This was a bad time to pick a fight, with all the rich people around.

As the music played, Seymour spied his Yuna, in the arms of another man. Although he did not know who that man was other than the position he had, he felt a deepening dislike for him. Unable to bear it longer, he led one of the ladies in the dance. Ignoring the girl's shy giggling, he led her close to where Yuna was dancing with her partner.

His timing was off, and it appeared the other man knew what was Seymour's intentions. When the moment came to change partners, the man somehow skill-fully steered Yuna away without having to change partners. Now and again, Yuna and Seymour would exchange longing glances and they turned, no attention paid to their own partners.

The band played on. Again, Seymour missed the chance to partner Yuna. It was like trying to catch a wave that fell onto the shore, that quickly receded after stroking the sand wet. Irrationally Seymour's heart beat passionately sped up. He felt as though he was losing her to the man, although his head kept telling his heart that everything was fine. That none of it was serious.

In his anxiety, he began to bite his lip. He may as well have been dancing with a lifeless chair, it mattered little to him. Fitfully he watched, his ears burning insecurely every time it looked as though his wife's partner was squeezing her waist.

At last he got her in his arms. Yuna held his huge hands, and watched as he emotionlessly stared at her former partner. His expression as usual subtle, but the glare in his eyes fiercely threatening. When Seymour's blue eyes turned back to her face, they changed, softening yet without losing that intensity.

Yuna leant her head onto his tattooed chest, and said, "I thought that man would never let me go."

"Any man in the right frame of mind would not." Seymour said, barely above a whisper. "Together at last..."

"You're feverish. Are you okay?" Asked Yuna, tenderly feeling his palms.

Seymour leant forward to say into her ear. "I am jealous." His breathing heavier, he declared, "I can't seem to stand watching you with another man."

Yuna felt his grip tighten, as they danced. He was gently leading her, and she felt as though she was being gradually cut and pierced by a silver knife as his consciousness pressed into her. She looked up at him. "Seymour, we can't... there's no water for a summoner's dance."

"I don't care..." Seymour told her insistently, sweeping her around in a dizzying turn.

Yuna concentrated and focused, and they began their intimate dance. He felt so different tonight, his power was coarse and suffocating. Before she knew it, she had been led away from the dance floor, and outside the hall. They were in the dark somewhere, faintly the sweet music could still be heard. Her back was softly pushed up against a granite wall. With her eyes half-closed she whispered, "Seymour I. Can't concentrate anymore.. you're so tense."

He had her fair dainty hands clasped in his, his body against hers. "I'm sorry..." He confessed, and immediately he stopped with his magic. Yet, he still kept Yuna in that position. Yuna shuddered slightly at the strange look in his eyes, her heart beat faster at his sensual touch. He would not let her move at all, keeping her in that subdued position. Seymour felt a type of smooth and subtle anger in him, it controlled and possessed him as if it were his master, inspiring certain dark intentions.

"Seymour, what are you doing?" Said Yuna very softly, her pink lips moving in the dark. Her palms rubbing against the cold and rough granite wall behind her.

He did not respond verbally, but closed all gaps between them, coming as close as their bodies and clothes would allow. Abit closer, and his mouth with parted lips would be touching her blushing face. His hot hands found themselves on her hips, feeling her muscles beneath the thin fabric. Suddenly, he kissed her roughly.

Yuna uncomfortably turned her face away from him, letting out a soft moan of protest. "Seymour... what's wrong?" When she tried to move, he only pressed her harder against the wall. His movement quick and responsive, then Yuna felt him, more gently this time connect with her spiritually. She felt so strongly, growing resentment because she had danced with that other man. His jealousy a dark mark in his heart, and that fragile and tender insecurity that was always within him showed. That he felt ugly, that he felt like a freakish half-breed that was worthless and meaning nothing to her. A single tear came down her cheek.

He stopped with his magic, confused and worried. "Yuna have I hurt you?" His hands releasing her hips, feeling her bare back for cuts or grazes. "Forgive my brashness, I'm just-"

Yuna hugged his middle, "Don't ever be jealous again. I love only you." He must be so hurt, his docile voice was unsteady and unsure. Like a rope that could not fray further, being at its limit.

"Did my jealousy scare you? I made you cry..."

"No, the hate that you have for yourself did." Yuna wanted to touch his face, but she knew she should not in a public area where they might be seen. Instead she kissed his lips. "If you're a freak, then I am too."

Seymour looked at her, loving her. "I want to go back, and just lay down with you." She consented, her feelings about the formal party completely mutual.

Back in the room, they bathed together. Together they stood there, allowing the hot water to patter down on them both.

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At one of the balconies, near the lively hall where the music played on stood Mika and Kelk, looking up at the bright moon while enjoying a bottle of port. Kelk had just told Mika of the spectacular failure he had while negotiating with the Al Bhed.

"Lord Mika! There has been a minor attack on one of the temples!" Yelled an armour-clad warrior monk, running towards Maester Mika and falling onto the floor to kneel before the High Maester. Briefly he his head to Kelk as well, before reporting.

"So soon again, not so loud. Which one, and by whom?"

"Macalania temple. By a random group of ruffians my Lord." Came the fast reply.

"When, and is the attack contained?"

"It is being contained as I report. No further news on this matter Maester Mika." Said the monk regrettably, looking at the floor.

Mika stroked his silver white beard for a moment then ordered, "Make sure none of the guests know, since it is already contained there is no sense in souring everyone's moods this night. Alert Maester Kinoc of this. You may be excused."

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Back in the gloomy Maester's quarters, husband and wife were upon the soft bed. Yuna was on his lap, nuzzling her cheek against his chest. When she shivered, he pulled off the covers beneath them and tucked them both in. At the initial feeling of being colder, she pressed the side of her body onto his. After their bath, they had neglected to put on any clothes at all. Both perfectly comfortable with each other, with no embarrassment.

In the dark greyness, Seymour was holding her, stroking the soft and smooth skin of her back. "Will you let me kiss you?" He murmured into her ear, stroking her hair. If they were sitting, or if she were on his lap, their height difference demanded that he bend down to reach her face.

She did not say anything, but held the sides of his blue-veined face, and the moment he gasped her tongue went searching for his. His hands were on her thighs, his heart beat speeding up, as his arousal began to peak. Feeling her hard tongue on his made his face burn, and his breathing turned ragged and ardent. She smelt so sweet, the scent of her increasing passion for him was heady and so strong.

"Yuna I love you." He moaned, holding her petite body. Not forgetting about his claws, he felt her body carefully. He was so happy that she was not fearful of his obvious arousal, he was sure that she could feel it on her skin. Again she kissed him, pressing her red lips onto his urgently. Both could no longer breathe through their noses, but opened their mouths to do so, panting heavily.

It was getting very warm, Seymour got up and tugged off the suffocating blanket covering them, sweat shining on their bodies in the dim light. He watched her expression as she saw his male potency, then she looked up at him, throwing her slender arms affectionately around his neck she returned his burning kisses. Before she did so, he saw in her eyes a moment of vulnerability, as she realised his power over her.

Through his heavy lust, he still kept his mind. But it was sweet sorrow for him, he whispered, "You're scared... I can smell it." He breathed her smell, and he was sad to find that the previous scent of desire he smelt before was wavering.

"I am." She admitted. "But I want to..." Her hand moved from his thigh. Yuna blushed admiring his body, and his excitement. It looked slightly different, mutually veined like his handsome face.

Feeling her fingers brush his erect penis, he bent his head back, his eyes closing at the sensation he gasped, "... You're not ready." When he felt her hand on it, with difficulty he removed her hand from his throbbing phallus. "When you're ready we will become one, although I want you so now..."

"Seymour, I want you too... but-"

"I understand... I am not hurt, I just do not want you scared like this. I want you comfortable while we copulate." Their breathing had returned to normal, and the night was getting cold again. Seymour said, "Yuna... I hope that you did not think before that I was impotent. Having not making you mine for so long."

Yuna laughed lightly. "Would it make you feel worse, if I told you that although I was so taken with you the first time I saw your face, I was worried that you were gay?"

"Oh no..." Sighed Seymour, carrying her in his arms. At her surprise at his random action he replied, "We are sweaty and wet." He lowered his voice flirtatiously to her, "You're especially wet."

She gave him a quiet whisper, "I told you that I wanted you."

He closed his clawed-hand, and with his knuckles he felt her. Slowly, he rubbed the sweet-spot above the opening of where he would penetrate her. He was rewarded with her gasping, her body arching and her fingers tightly clutching his broad shoulders. Her thighs stiffened, as she gasped at the pleasurable sensation he was giving her.

She whispered, "Mph... y- you know it." Her face flushed, her lips parted as she breathed heavily.

"I am glad to know that I am doing it right." He whispered to her, bringing his mouth to hers. Before long she cried out, arching her body for a final time. Seymour watched her, guiltily he fantasised coupling with her, that she was writhing like so because of his thrusts. The entire surface of her skin pink, her eyes were beginning to close from drowsiness.

"Seymour, I'm sorry I'm not ready..."

"Don't, it's okay..." Seymour gently carried her into the bathroom.

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A deafening chimera's roar pealed through Macalania temple, ringing in the air like the tolling of a bell. The fiend twisted, trying to get at the knife jabbed into its back. Its muscles rippling as it strained, all its assorted animal heads rearing in pain.

The place was a mess, a group of rouges numbering roughly two-dozen had broken in. Guado guards with their fiends were there fighting them off. Heading them was Mesmir, who had been silenced. Unable to cast his black magic, he calmed his shrieking chimera with his mind. 'Ignore the pain' he thought to it, 'I will tend to you after, finish your combat.'

He turned around, smelling the man behind him. Mesmir punched, and at the same time got the wind knocked out of him as the heretic yelled and kicked his side. He gritted his teeth, as he got off the cold floor of the icy temple he spat out a stream of blood.

The man yelled as he caught fire. A Guado from the back had cast Firaga, and was holding the spell, watching coldly as the still standing, struggling and screaming man cooked as though he was in a pit of a glowing barbecue. The smell was terrific, and likely to be unforgettable.

The other heretics began to step back, watching dumbly in horror at the sight. More than half of them did not stay to watch their unbelievably unfortunate ally, fall onto the floor dead and charred black.

The last three were quickly caught. Mesmir regained his voice, and complemented, "Well-done Salveg. I did not expect you to be so cruel though."

Salveg Guado bowed his brown-haired head and apologised. "Forgive me sir... I smelt your pain, I could not help but give the enemy a taste of his own medicine."

As three elder fiend handlers took away the prisoners to be sent to Bevelle for trial, Mesmir connected his knuckles with young Salveg. As Guado lived long, Salveg was still considered an adolescent. "Keep your temper the next time."

"I'm sorry." Quivered the youngster.

Mesmir could smell the boy's sadness and remorse. It smelt salty and brackish, and he knew it was not only because he had displeased his superior. "It was an accident, you did not mean to kill the man. Speak to your amla when he returns from Bevelle."

Salveg looked up, uncertain. "But sir, he-"

"Nonsense. He still remains your teacher, your amla is your third parent. You will confide in him, do not feel that he has lost all care for you. In fact, you should report the incident. As high priest he will be most interested to know everything."

Salveg looked at his superior's stern black-veined face and bowed in acknowledgement.

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**End of Chapter twenty-three**

This chapter is dedicated to** Bright Lotus.**

•••••••••••••••

_Dear readers. I bet you all are out for my blood for taking so fcking long_

_to update this. And what's more it's short._

_I'm now doing another fan-art. You'll all be able to see it_

_on Deviant Art when I publish my next chapter..._

_yours truly, and here to serve,_

_M.O.S._

•••••••••••••


	24. SON

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X fan-fic

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

--

Yuna had just returned home from teaching her choir. It was in the late afternoon, and she was in the secure and lush garden of the manor, listening to the leaves of the trees rustle as the breeze went past. Already her students were affected by the recent conflict in Spira, their moodiness showed in the unenthusiastic manner in which they sang. (As though they were singing in a funeral dirge.)

Seymour was presently away, because he had to speak to one of his former pupils. It sounded most terrible to Yuna, because the young man had "roasted one of the attackers alive." She shuddered at the thought, of dying in such a horrible way, and of a Guado committing such an act. She knew in general they were a gentle and sensitive race, even for a human or Yevonite to do something like that was incredibly cruel.

As Yuna sat there, the tiny pink and purple flowers in the garden calmed her, she thought about how attached she was getting to the manor. Of its hard polished wood and branches twisting into hollows and cosy rooms, some branches slender, others thicker for support. The soft moss carpet, and then there was the fragrant smell of plants and nature...

Suddenly she shivered, and turned her head to a noise she heard. Her eyes widened in surprise. At the far end of the green garden, with narrow rays of light shining down on the awful, revolting and decaying spectre of her father-in-law.

"Lord Jyscal!" She cried with her hand over her mouth. "You shouldn't be here!" She made to send him, but he maliciously came onto her with one fell swoop, before Yuna could scream for help.

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"Lord Seymour... I was supposed to report to you..." Salveg began. The young one stood in front of Seymour's office desk uncertainly.

"I heard." Came Seymour's reply. "Mesmir told me you were shaken. Are you fine now?"

Salveg remained quiet. Looking at the wooden planks of the floor. Salveg's burly dual horn was sitting good-naturedly outside, peering in through the window.

"Be honest with me." Encouraged Seymour directly, laying aside his monotonous paperwork. He gestured him to sit down.

"I feel." Salveg looked up, his warm brown eyes blank, still standing as rays of light came in from the blinds covering the window. "Have I done something very bad?"

"Yes, it was no doubt immoral. But he was the enemy." Seymour could smell the boy's guilty scent. "No one is upset at you Salveg. We do not have less affection for you, _I_ do not have less affection for you, nor do your parents."

Salveg nodded, and he blurted embarrassed, "I cannot help but think that I am wasting your time!"

"Never. Such things are worth the most time. You should go and see your parents, not going home since the incident, they will be worried about you. Burning a man to death." Seymour said, his face impassive, but his eyes concerned. He had made sure that none of the press caught that part. The public would be scandalised, the last thing Spira needed now was racism.

"Yes teac- Sir. Sir? I keep thinking that my parents will be angry with me."

"No, trust me and go home today. You have always been the black chocobo of the flock."

"Okay Sir." Salveg frowned and looked anxiously out the window. "Sir... do you sense something..?"

"Very slight." Seymour as a half-breed, had only noticed it after Salveg had mentioned it. It was... of bitter strife and conflict.

There was no one else in the office. Lord Seymour and his ex-student went outside and started hurrying to the source of that scent.

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Yuna was no longer in the enclosed garden, but upstairs in the bed chamber without the lights on. She was holding a sharp knife in her hand, steadily cutting her fair forearm open. There was blood on the knife, blood running down her arm, fresh blood on her dress. Blood dripping onto the table.

Her face was pink, but she was totally expressionless. She could not fight or stop what she was doing to herself. Even after the searing cuts began to bleed more slowly, her arteries were reopened again and again, and more red, red blood poured out.

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"What the Farplane!" Swore Lord Seymour, disturbed. There was dense smoke floating into the blue sky from across Macalania lake. All from the usually placid Hypello's boggy swamp. There were no tourists in sight, because they must have fled.

"Is it Sin?" Asked Salveg, getting ready for a fight fidgeting and clenching his clawed fists. Communicating through subtle emotion to his bristling dual horn, cautioning it and ordering it to get ready.

"No, something new, something not as simple." Seymour muttered, throwing aside his over-coat and wading into the muddy water to swim across the lake full of moonlilies.

When they reached the other side, they started running in the direction of the black smoke. They nimbly jumped and climbed through the thick swamp plants, and when they had reached the Hypello village it was obviously too late.

Three little mushroom-shaped houses were smouldering. There were no Hypello in sight. Straw doors were left ajar, windows were carelessly left open.

In the hot and shining sun, Salveg ran into a small straw hut, shaped differently from the others. It was cone-shaped, but made of yellow straw like the rest. "My Lord!" He called. "Their food stores have been emptied, it looks like they just evacuated!"

Maester Seymour was standing near a smoking Hypello house, trying to sense if there was anyone hurt or left behind. He crouched nearer, staring at the burning wood and formerly yellow straw. "Why are the soldiers not here yet...?"

"Sir, why do you think this happened?" Asked Salveg, while his dual horn sneezed from the light grey ash floating in the air, shaking its head.

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All colour had run out of Yuna's complexion. Her mind was not her own, it was Jyscal doing everything. Drying and fresh blood was all over her white and violet dress. Her heart beat was weakening.

Yet Jyscal pushed, and continued cutting the last strokes into her white skin. Yuna kept thinking of Seymour, hoping that he would come and save her.

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Conflict related to religion. Because-" Seymour frowned, still looking at the way the wood burnt.

"The Hypello are strong supporters of Yevon? Sir, I must say that I had never liked tourists, even more so now."

"Salveg, go home." Said Seymour laughing at that statement, as scouts starting coming into the village.

Salveg looked confused for a moment, then bowed and waved to his dual horn to follow. Sand and gravel crunched under their feet as they went away.

A scout in hardy leather clothing bowed to Seymour, apologising that they came later than their leader. He then assured Lord Seymour that everything was within their control, and that Mesmir was on his way back from Bevelle after attending the attacker's trial.

At the manor, anxiety about the incidences turned into shock when Tromell and Pescal told Seymour while he was removing his wet and muddy boots, that Yuna was found upstairs earlier committing self-mutilation.

"What?!"

"The bleeding has stopped my lord. Lady Yuna is resting presently. We called the healer, white magic seems to have little effect." Bowed Tromell.

Before Pescal could say more, his young master was already gone.

"It will be better that he finds out from her himself." Said Tromell wearily, holding Seymour's thick leather boots.

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Lord Seymour had no recollection of how fast he went up the stairs, before he knew it he was at her side checking her in the chamber, speaking quietly to her.

"You're home..." Yuna whispered her eyes closed, her injured hand blindly feeling for his. "I was so scared..." She was sobbing slightly.

"Why did you cut yourself, is something the matter?" He asked, taking her small hand in his large one. He worried more, when he saw that her face was very pale and tinged a sickly green, her scent was so anxious like water trickling away.

"It wasn't me..." She replied, lying there half-conscious. "It was Lord Jyscal, he came again... I was in the garden... He possessed me." She heard him hiss in anger, although he was speechless she knew what demons held him. "Seymour don't be... it was not, I knew he wasn't trying to kill me."

"My father was sly then. He lied to you. If not, why did he sever my link with yours? I was wondering why couldn't I feel your distress." It was as though his father was stressing the fact that he was just a "freak." A half-breed, if he were pure, he might have been able to sense her in agony.

"I-"

"Let me see." Seymour took her weak and white hand and began to carefully unwrap the bloodied bandages. "Does it hurt my dear?" His voice docile as ever again.

"A little."

For now he was more concerned for his Yuna, he would care about why his cursed father escaped from the Farplane again later. Why Yuna? Why not him instead? When the bandages were completely and painlessly removed, he squinted in the dim orange light from the lamp the wound in her hand. Her nasty wounds were cut into words.

"Son." It said, red and pink in and on her skin.

"Seymour... I don't know why he did this.." Yuna said, so silently it was almost just the sound of air escaping from her mouth.

"Worry not my lady, I'm here." He wanted her to relax, and go to sleep. He could tell that she was struggling desperately to stay awake while he examined her injured wrist.

When Yuna saw him make a small gesture with his hand she said, "Don't cast sleep on me. Please." She squeezed his other hand as hard as she could.

"Are you all right?" He asked letting go, feeling her quake suddenly. He sat on the comfortable bed, and then lay next to her. Now she smelt less frightened, more serene and mild. "I should go and get myself cleaned up."

He did so as silently and as quickly as possible. Gently he lay next to her, guarding her in the dark and cold night. He could see her face in the gloom, against the soft ornately patterned cover of the pillow. As she lay there, he lowered his voice and said protectively into her ear, "... I will not let him hurt you again." He felt her forehead, and she was burning up with a fever.

"... He.. mentioned again and again.. 'my son...' I couldn't understand..." She spoke weakly.

"I am so sorry Yuna, for bringing all this onto you." Seymour thought as he said that, that he would have to go and confront his father at the Farplane.

"Seymour... hold me. I'm cold..."

While he held her, he did his best to heal her with his slight white magic. "You've lost so much blood..." He murmured. Hiding his anger very well beneath his calm demeanour, hiding his negative and violent thoughts, knowing that it would soon cause another one of his mental black-outs. He listened to her delirious speech, and continued to hold her.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Maester Kinoc sat with his chubby hands on his massive marble office desk in Bevelle. This was crazy, and so unnecessary. All this unrest just because there were no summoners fighting Sin as of late. There would not be much of a difference any way, the last calm was ten years ago, and summoner after summoner simply kept failing. There was nothing he could do to save these people from themselves.

"Maester Kinoc?" Came a voice from outside the thick door.

"What is it?"

"A report. Besaid Temple was just attacked."

"Has it been contained?" Kinoc asked, looking up from his desk, alert.

"No Maester. But the crusaders are holding out well, being assisted by Lady Yuna's former guardians." Replied the messenger.

Kinoc straightened the report and read briskly. Half of his mind on what to do with those caught starting fights and such. "Nothing to be alarmed about then. Make sure that High Maester Mika knows of this."

The messenger in red monk's uniform bowed once and ran out of the room, his shoes sounding off the hard floor.

Kinoc put his hands together and twiddled his thumbs, a habit he indulged in whenever he was in deep thought or worried. This would surely get out of hand. In his opinion Mika himself had never experienced anything like this before, in all his years as High Maester of Yevon.

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Rikku in her sand-proof Al Bhed suit sat quiet at the shimmering oasis in the yellow dusty desert, deep in thought. Her father Cid would not let the Summoners go. Talking to him was totally useless, it was like trying to convince a rock to jump. This clear oasis was a spot that she sometimes took the captive summoners to – with at least five guards with sub-machine guns. By Cid's orders.

She looked up and squinted in the blazing sun's rays, there was not a cloud in the sky at all. The place was especially prone to mirages, due to the reflections off the water, and the shining grey rocks, worn smooth by sandstorms. Someone wearing red was strolling towards the spot where she sat.

She hesitated, turned her head to one side and then she called out uncertainly. "Auron! That you?"

The figure did not wave or respond. Just continued to walk. Far away the heat coming off the sand made his image blurry, but as the distance closed Rikku's delighted suspicions were confirmed. It was Auron all right, and as surly as ever. She jumped up and laughed, "Where did you come from? I've missed you!"

"No time for that now. Tell the summoners that we will be planning an attack on Sin, be specific that no-one will be dying. We will be ending all this, forever." Auron took a drink from his clay bottle. "Do they know of the conflict all over-"

"It's crazy! How's everyone else back on Besaid?" Exclaimed Rikku hugging him for a moment and letting go. "No, they don't, but they've started to become suspicious when my dad won't let them see the newspapers.... nor gossip magazines anymore.... and... no Sin forever, how?!"

Auron intoned and nodded thoughtfully, looking at the sun. "How's your training?"

"Hey, you changed the subject! I'm getting better." Said Rikku jumping up and down in her signature corn-popping movement, scattering the sand at their feet. Before he could respond, Rikku ran behind a palm tree. "Don't beat me up okay?"

The weathered veteran laughed. "Be ready for action."

Still peering from behind the rough cylindrical trunk of the tree she asked, dying from her curiosity. "But Sin gone... forever...? As in, never-coming-back?"

"From my past experience, I know more than any of those about Sin. Much more."

Rikku shuddered at the look she saw briefly in the gentleman's eye. So far away, distant and intense. Resentful even, as if there was a thirst for revenge. "Auron... Are you okay?"

"As fine as I have always been." Came the cool reply.

"Um. Maester Kelk showed up twice already you know. The summoners want to leave and continue, that's why papa doesn't want to let them go."

"I need you to tell the summoners about my plan." Grated Auron looking at her through his shades.

Rikku jumped in shock and shook her blond head. "They'll never believe me!"

"No need for them to believe you, just make sure that they know." Retorted Sir Auron. Shouldering his smoke black katana. All at once he blinked as though he remembered something deeply important. "I must go, and remember to tell them!"

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"Teacher please. Climb with us?" Begged Lars, hugging Seymour's middle. "You smell sad."

As the other tiny younglings in green and brown schooling tunics hung from the massive branches of the trees in Guadosalam forest, Seymour stood there bare-footed like his students stroking Lars' grey hair.

Lars looked up, pushing Lord Seymour in affection. "Why won't you say anything teacher, why are all the other adults sad too, why do they say times are bad?"

The breeze blew gently, causing leaves to float through the area atmospherically. The green and yellow leaves on the trees billowed and rustled, the sound loud yet peaceful and settling.

Seymour sighed and looked into his student's wide innocent eyes. Guado had a firm belief in not exposing their dear young to actual violence. Stories were just stories, but actual happenings would scare and disturb their spirits. He began quietly, "It is not so safe anymore." Absent-mindedly he came down onto one knee, and heaved the child onto his lap.

Lars whispered rubbing his face into Seymour's sleeve. "Teacher, all I have left is mummy. Daddy... he–"

"I know. I know..." Seymour at that moment thought about his own father. "Speak no more, before you cry." His huge azure-clawed hand patted the shivering back of the youngling. He was thinking about the madness happening. He reasoned while he hugged Lars, he should fix what was closest to home first. He gritted his teeth just thinking about what he had to do. He had no choice but to see his insufferable father at the Farplane.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

While it was during nap-time for his class, a fiend handler in tough leather armour ran fast towards the forest clearing.

Seymour looking up from where he sat on the grass, asked calmly, "Has something happened?"

"My lord, Macalania temple is under attack." Sounded the handler's anxious voice.

**End of Chapter Twenty Four**

••••••••••••••

This chapter is dedicated to

anonymous people/reviewers,

"**hiccups**"

&

"**[little] Rock and Roll Queen**."

•••••••••••••••

Dear readers,

oh my gods. Everything is breaking up! Remind me if I seem to have forgotten anything in the story!!!


	25. AntiYevon Group

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X fan-fic

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

--

There was a loud boom in the air. The very stony foundations of Macalania temple shook under the assault of these well-prepared and extraordinarily organised rebels. Blinding red sparks and hot ashes flew everywhere.

Out of nowhere sailed a small, strange metal cylinder. It fell seeming harmless, bouncing off the wet floor from where there was previously ice. Shortly it hissed, and a vapour issued from it clouding the area further.

"My eyes! My eyes!" Shouted a Guado soldier, wringing his huge clawed hands and shaking his head, his helpless tearing eyes screwed shut.

An enemy figure in black uniform holding a jagged lance stabbed him, as the dying Guado yelled, the figure turned the blade killing him. The fiend guarding him roared in dismay, attacking the figure but was swiftly disposed of. Pyre flies filled the air, the sound of machina weapons saturated and dominated.

Furious, Lord Seymour knelt amidst the violence and disorder, onto the floor to look at the fallen. Fast and smoothly he whipped around and cast his magic, freezing an enemy soldier running towards him. As the soldier lay hard and solidified, Seymour kicked, effectively detaching the man's head and sending it spinning off on the wet floor.

Maester Seymour and his men were robbed of their Guado sense of smell. With this gas in the air, they could not smell each other's emotions, and could barely differentiate each other from the enemy. Blurry silhouettes danced in and out of the vapours. It would be all too easy to cause a fatal accident.

Seymour received a heavy blow into his side. Turning around, his eyes narrowed, he saw another one of them. As the weapon came at him, he caught it watching the enemy panic, trying to shake the weapon out of Seymour's iron grasp.

"May Yevon fall!" Shouted the enemy soldier, still stubbornly holding his cumbersome steel lance.

Seymour did not reply but used the spear as a conductor to electrocute the man with Thundara. Then he let go, black smoke was coming off the charred man's black and cracked skin, still holding onto his lance in a death grip.

No, this was not working. He had to summon, he steeled his resolve hating the smell of danger, his heart uneasy he called his chilling aeon...

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In the morning Yuna lay in bed, just waking up, the thick blankets keeping her safe and warm. She blindly groped for where her husband would slumber, and felt in the gloom that he was not there. Then she was reminded of her injury when she felt a familiar dull pain in her inner forearm. Slowly and sluggishly she got out of the covers and stepped onto the moss carpet.

She looked at her arm. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw how awful it looked. It would surely scar, but nothing permanent thankfully. She concentrated, and tried to use her magic to ease the pain somewhat. It did not work. Whenever it felt as though there was relief coming, a mild barrier would stop it from working.

Yuna sighed, and sat on the edge of the bed. She quivered when she recalled how eerie it was to be possessed. But still, being the forgiving young lady she was, she did not hold any grudges against Jyscal. She was petrified and frightened while he firmly controlled her, the knife she loosely held in her hand doing whatever her late father-in-law wanted it to. She wondered why he kept resiliently silent at the Farplane, she would need to have serious talk with Lord Seymour about this, although she knew it would be most unpleasant for him.

Looking around she saw a note lying on the table. It was from her husband, it read:

_My love,_

_forgive me for not being able to have breakfast with you. I am needed at my office,_

_to oversee an investigation on the assault on my temple last early evening. Three of_

_our soldiers have fallen. I urge you not to worry, and I shall be back home as soon as I am done._

_Your husband_

After she had bathed and changed, she went downstairs calling for Tromell.

Tromell came and bowed his green head before saying, "Lady Yuna please go back and rest. I have already sent messages to your choir that you are ill. Lord Seymour wishes that you not exert yourself."

"Tromell, the attack on Macalania temple!" Said Yuna, worried and unsettled shaking her brunette head.

Tromell did as most elders do, taking Yuna's small hand in his rough and wrinkled palm and with his other hand stroked it soothingly. "There, there Lady Yuna. It is over."

"Three died!" Yuna gasped.

"They have already been sent by master Seymour. As well as some of the intruders that have died." Tromell reassured her the best he could hiding his own sorrow, leading her benevolently to go and sit at the table so that he could serve her brunch.

Yuna had her hand over her mouth. Thinking about what she had just discovered. Feeling giddy, she sat at the table. "Tromell?"

"Yes Lady Yuna?"

"Where's Pescal?" She inquired, breathing more slowly.

As Tromell poured Yuna tea, he replied, "He is away, healing the injured. Though, I have strict orders to stop you from leaving the manor. Forgive me my lady." His already unsteady voice wavering further.

Yuna sighed in resignation. Seymour knew her well, she would want to go and help to heal the injured, but. She was in no condition to. As she slid in and out of her thoughts, Tromell muttered, his bushy green brows coming together in a frown as he put warm oat cakes in front of her, "My my, yet another attack on Macalania temple, what is the world coming to?"

As his mistress ate, Tromell obeyed Seymour's earlier orders and disposed of the daily newspaper.

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"A report has just come in from Maester Seymour my Lord." A monk in reverence, bowed his shaven head in the lush greenhouse of Highbridge, handing Maester Mika a letter.

"Thank you young man, you may go now." Wheezed Mika, opening the slightly crumpled letter to read it.

"My Lord, you forgot your newspaper." Reminded the monk, bowing once more, handing the old leader a copy before leaving.

The sound of dripping water echoed in the humid and yet pleasantly cool place. Light shone through the sphere pool from high above, casting dancing reflections off the green leaves and dew dusted on the robust plants and flowers.

As he read the white letter, wizened Mika saw a pattern in the attacks. These were completely unlike the random ones that had been occurring for the past few weeks all over Spira. They were disturbingly professional and very well organised, and the attackers actually had uniforms. Unfortunately none were caught, those that were, committed suicide. Now they used Machina weapons...?

He got up from his chair, and picked up his silver watering can which was half-full. Walking over to a cactuar bush, he absent-mindedly watered the thing. Surely the Al Bhed were not in this? It was an obvious formation of a new terrorist group, a threat to the temple of Yevon.

His watering can empty, Maester Mika set it down onto the moist and fertile ground. Went back to his chair and took up the newspaper. Splayed across the front page:

**Two Temples Attacked**

**Besaid and Macalania temple was attacked yesterday**

**by possibly the same new terrorist organisation dressed in plain black.**

**Nicknamed the "Anti-Yevon Group."**

**It is vaguely known that they believe Bevelle responsible for the disappearance**

**of Spira's summoners, in an attempt to gain more power over, and more dependance from the people.**

**They claim the proof is the widely-known failed Operations Mi'ihen one and two,**

**occurring suspiciously at the same time of the unexplained disappearances of the world's summoners.**

**Maester Kinoc with Yevon public relations claim that all this is untrue and that**

**Bevelle is not holding the missing summoners captive. Not much more is known**

**about the conditions of either temples, the areas now branded**

**out-of-bounds and is now under investigation by the Crusaders and Warrior Monks.**

Mika sighed. At least Kinoc did something right, hiding from the press evidence of use of machina weapons. There was already so much racism against the Al Bhed, and they certainly did not need more of it.

He would return to his office in Bevelle and make preparations to brace for the worst, along with plans to find out who the leaders of the Anti-Yevon Group were. They were a serious threat, and the potential ruin of all order as they knew it.

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Within "Home" of the Al Bhed, two summoners sat opposite each other in the sterile metal recreation room, playing a native strategy game. Their faces shrewd and calculative, deep in thought. All the summoners had stopped their attempts to escape, or all hope of ever having a chance to fight Sin.

Picking up a polygonal-shaped piece of copper, Summoner Donna announced softly, "Checkmate," as she placed it over one of Issaru's game pieces.

"It would appear that you have won again." Said Issaru sighing, his voice echoing slightly off the metal walls. Iron and steel dominated Al Bhed architecture, at first it felt alien and uncomfortable. But since they were treated kindly, the place grew on them, revealing a hidden type of charm.

"I want real action." Complained tan-skinned Donna. She looked out of the window, the glass was more than an inch thick. A month ago they had tried to break it down using chairs and tables. (After using their various hand weapons had failed.) Their attempts left scratches, but not a single solitary crack.

Their aeons could do no better either. There stood nearby a complicated machina, from where it was operated no one knew. It nullified the magic and power of aeons, a type of barrier was there. Rikku said that it was to make sure that no one, including themselves were to use weapons or magic of any kind at home. Al Bhed culture strictly believed in weapons only for the battle field, and for defence from fiends that meant harm.

"Even if we could get out, it is too hot. We would die in the desert." Issaru massaged his temples in agitation. "I have half a mind to fling off my robes and go about naked."

Both their heads turned in the direction of a door opening, and their favourite captor entering the room. Rikku took off her sand goggles and asked, "Why looking so glum guys?"

The two answered her question with exasperated looks, as if she had something crazy.

Rikku turned her head here and there, and assumed a manner of extreme secrecy. "I know this sounds kinda sudden and all, but if you all help we have a chance of getting rid of Sin. Like, forever."

"How?" Came the two in unison immediately, both unconsciously leaning forward.

"You know the legendary Sir Auron? He has a plan. I don't really know how either, but tell the other summoners to get ready."

Lady Donna raised an eyebrow and inquired, "... Ready for what?"

Rikku shrugged and yet stayed enthusiastic at the same time, "I think he's gonna bust you all out of here."

"Interesting." Said Issaru. "He told you himself?"

Rikku nodded in affirmation, and crossed her fingers in front of the interested two who were exchanging glances, interested and yet doubtful at the same time.

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Besaid Island, ever so peaceful. Ever so brilliantly bright and sunny, but not ever so beautiful or as enchanting for the time being. The temple was smoking like a chimney with an overworked fireplace.

A little girl of the temple, in training to become a nun wiped tears from her eyes. She sat at the edge of the white sandy beach, that seemed to stretch endlessly on and on. Every now and then a wave of salt and brine would cascade on her feet.

Tidus was standing with Lulu some distance away. Both in dreary moods because of the recent violent incident.

Lulu spoke in her slow alto voice, "The world has changed so quickly, so fast."

"Poor kid. How do you think is Yuna holding up?" Tidus looked sympathetically at the woebegone child sitting there in the waves, having lost her teacher.

"She will be safe with Maester Seymour."

"Yeah, but, didn't Macalania temple get attacked too? Who are these people?" Tidus shook his head in vexation.

"Heretics to Yevon. Thank goodness Sir Auron was here to help us fight them off." Lulu replied, thinking, wondering what was the worst to come.

"Or twice as many people would've died?" Thought the one from the past, out aloud.

Lulu sighed in response and walked away. At the very least he was taking the dire situation better than Wakka.

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Like mad. No. He was mad, insane and utterly unable to exercise control of any sort. Seymour shook his head slowly, his eyes closed. His heart rate was shooting through the sky, and his hands clenched and unclenched numbly. He tried to calm down, but the thought of his Yuna being harmed drove him off the edge.

I small bit of him courageously resisted, but being aware that he was in Macalania woods... He let loose his fettered reins of control. With no weapon, he wandered unsteadily through the frigid and desolate petrified place.

Butterflies flitting here and there amongst the crystallised trees. Blue, like thin flakes of ice. The form of the maester leaned against a mammoth crystal, and then he slid down onto the ground. His eyes open but sightless, not even noticing that a few of the them landed onto his satin clothing.

Then appeared the red butterfly. A fiend materialised in the air, it reared its ugly head, this way and that sniffing the air. Its prominent and bulging yellow eyes rolling in their sockets, its diseased and rotting limbs carrying it forward to the seemingly helpless sapphire-haired Guado man leaning onto a crystal tree.

The blue butterflies flitted away in a rush, no more the ground glittered as the fiend's shadow covered the light. The man did not move or twitch a muscle, appearing too exhausted for such an effort.

Seymour's mind was foggy and unclear. He did not know where he was, or what he was supposed to do. He was dreaming... His body did not feel the cold or the hardness of the thing his body was in contact with. He was at the Farplane. Was he dead? He felt free and wild, no control. No boundaries, nothing was wrong, everything in overwhelming totality was fine to do. He felt happily murderous, without morals without polite etiquette.

He saw his bloody father there in his dream. Jyscal was holding out his hand to him, the other hand holding his trademark gnarled walking stick. As scintillating pyre flies floated about the old man, Seymour's mood changed in a fast and fell stroke. Seymour opened his mouth and cried out in torment. Lord Jyscal swung his walking stick hard as Seymour charged him–

The fiend was surprised that its prey still had kick and spirit to yell in defence. It made a noise and attacked. The prey was all alone, with no one to help or save him. Its claws fractured and splintered the wood and crystal glittering around. Funny, although its prey looked sick, the man flailed and screamed fighting back but as if he was blind. His eyes stared sightlessly.

At the sacred Farplane, Seymour was locked with his loathed father, wrestling. Once again the Maester wanted to repeat the event that happened before. He wanted so to kill his father again, if only he could reach that wrinkled neck.. His father's claws were digging into his skin, blood erupted fresh and warm from Seymour. The young Maester yelled obscenities and expressed verbally how much he hated the man.

The fiend thought that it was winning, the Guado was bleeding. The man's red blood stained the crystals it touched, making them appear as though they were shining rubies instead. Soon he would be taken down, and he would make a nice meal. It stood back for a moment, watching the man's expression.

Seymour soon had his hands around Jyscal's neck. Brutally doing so and enjoying every moment of it, although mortally wounded himself, he crushed the old man's windpipe. It did not make sense, although the struggling old man, kicking and drawing in no breath, could speak. "My son..."

The half-breed came to his senses, startled at the hideous dead fiend he was throttling.

**End of Chapter 25**

••••••••••••

This chapter is dedicated to **starry34**

**For that really encouraging review!**

••••••••••••••

Dear readers, I have finished my latest fan-art of our favourite pairing.

(I think I'm getting better...)

Go to my fan-fiction profile and click my deviant art link,

or search:

Yumour: Ocean Deep

I thank you all for your support.

*continues typing story*


	26. Ten Years: Back from Baaj

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X fan-fic

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

--

_The time when Seymour was just taken back from Baaj after ten long years. Seymour sits at a table. Enter Mesmir Guado._

"Seymour, you have come home to us." Said Mesmir warmly spreading his long arms, his black eyes intense and focused, looking at his childhood friend of whom he had not seen for ten long years. Mesmir watched, as his friend nodded weakly. His friend smelt faint and unhealthy. So tired for one his age. Only elders smelt as such, he smelt as though he had been through alot.

They were seated in the frigid hall of Macalania temple. Mesmir observed Seymour, he looked very weak and listless as if he had not slept well for a time, the warm breath coming from his nose fogging the icy air. Perhaps from his sudden position as High Priest of Macalania temple. Mesmir wondered why did Lord Jyscal do such a thing, and so soon. Perhaps being a priest looked like a respectable occupation, worthy of a Maester's son.

"Seymour are you in shock?" Mesmir spoke again softly, turning his head to the side. "Seymour, I have missed you. But you do not seem to care one bit whether or not I come by to see you. What happened on Baaj?"

"I've missed you too Mesmir. I am just... not adapting well." Seymour's speech was slow and awkward, his tongue stiff from disuse having no one to speak to on that lonely island.

"You smell sad Seymour. Are you okay?" Prompted Mesmir, his obsidian eyes looking at his friend.

"I will be in time." Replied Seymour, sighing and closing his eyes.

Mesmir, hoping to make his friend speak more, touched the coral and citrine beads around his friend's neck. "You haven't taken these off ever since you returned..."

Seymour very abruptly went insane. Screaming as if he had been burnt, he knocked Mesmir's hand away and held his throat, throttling him. Seymour's face enraged and alert. The chair he was sitting on overturned with a clatter. The lacquered wooden table screeched a few feet off position, sliding easily on the slippery floor of the temple.

Mesmir choked and struggled as Seymour jerked his hands, wringing his neck. He kicked him forcefully, but Seymour barely staggered. He could not draw in any breath in that bolt lock, he felt blood being trapped in his head to bursting point. He could tell that Seymour was not himself, he was acting as though he was possessed by an evil spirit. He put his shaking hands on Seymour's and fought to pry them off his neck, the sharp pain startling him.

They staggered on the spot, and when Mesmir managed to pull off Seymour's hands, he could feel that the stinging skin on his neck was punctured in places by Seymour's pointed claws.

Mesmir screamed, causing monks and lower priests to flood into the place, soft shoes making sliding sounds on the solid floor.

"Lord Seymour!"

"What's going on here?!"

Seymour screamed when Mesmir burnt his friend's hands, at the same time casting Sleep. He watched as Seymour swayed dazed on the spot, his blue eyes no longer focused and infuriated. Just in time, he caught him before he collapsed onto the stone floor of the temple.

Mesmir healed himself with white magic. Although his clothing was bloodstained, his priority was to carry Seymour. The monks were fussing over the both of them protectively, while they did so he noticed that Seymour's silk vest had come undone, and his chest was variously scarred and mutilated, fine lines, pigmentation and trauma showed in that gap of silk and linen.

"Should we call Lord Jyscal...?" Asked one of the monks as they helped Mesmir carry Seymour to lay him down onto a bed in the temple.

While the monks decided what to do whilst laying Seymour's limp form onto the bed, Mesmir squinted and examined the scars. They looked very much of the self-inflicted type. It could be observed clearly, with irregular and yet linear enough lines to see that it was by that of a Guado hand. He had clawed at his own chest...? They were many, numerous and overlapping. No skin was left unmarked or natural at all.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"How is the boy?" Inquired Lord Jyscal. What was the healer's diagnosis?"

Pescal shifted his feet awkwardly, but respectfully maintained eye-contact. They were in the small library of the manor, presently Pescal had just served his lord tea and crumpets on an ornate silver tray.

Pescal ran his claws through his thick violet hair, and replied. "The healer said that master Seymour is emotionally ill sire, it is why he–"

Jyscal looked up more attentively, his blue eyes flashing, "Can he be cured?" His upper lip trembling, his moustache and beard moving along with his concerned face.

"I asked the same thing my lord, the healer does not know for certain..."

Jyscal looked irritated, and worried. "But he cannot." The leader paused thinking. "It is my fault Pescal, for what I have done to him."

Pescal bowed his head knowing the habits of his lord, leaving before he was dismissed. He shut the heavy wooden door quietly, just catching the scent of regret, remorse and sorrow.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Pain. Eyes watering. Seymour grimaced, and twisted his hands. "Mesmir.... Mesmir?" His breath shuddering vulnerably as he called out weakly, his voice cracking, "Where am I?" Now it was happening again, anxiety came and swallowed him, drowning him deep into its depts. His frantic heart palpated crazily, as though it was going to detonate in his chest.

"My Lord no!" Cried a faraway voice.

Seymour still laying on the messy bed, his limbs entangled in the fine sheets as he struggled, sweating profusely and dreadfully as if he were facing mortal peril. His heart was pounding, stabbing, slicing. He would do anything to stop it, he clutched at his trembling chest. Seymour gasped, "Make it stop... make it stop... I!"

Mesmir panicked and was trying to pull off Seymour's hands, but Seymour's sapphire claws were snagged deep, coaxing blood out. Mesmir feared that if he tugged too hard, the pale skin of Seymour's chest would tear right open.

Seymour screamed his eyes wide but seeing nothing, "MAKE IT STOP!"

And then just like that, it had passed. Mesmir had his mouth open, still with a firm grip on Seymour's slightly bloody hands.

Mesmir whispered, his voice uncertain and confused. "What the Farplane was that?"

"Let go Mesmir." Seymour leant back feeling the puncture marks on his chest with his fingers. "Mesmir, I am unfit for being a priest. For being anything. I think I'm insane." His voice monotonous, as if he had known and accepted this fact long ago.

"What happened on that forsaken island that did this to you?" Mesmir questioned, shaking his head despairingly. "Damn, you have –"

"Gone mad. Stark, raving, and irrevocably mad." Seymour answered for truthfully for him.

"What happened on Baaj?"

"Why don't you ask my father. He's building a temple there now."

Mesmir frowned and punched Seymour's forearm using moderate force, like an angry sibling after a quarrel. "You have not answered my question." He insisted, smelling that salty smell of despair from Seymour.

"I don't know. Ten years? I thought it was just six or so. I just went and got myself sick. I do not know how."

"Without treatment? For so many years... By the gods!" Gasped Mesmir.

"I want to die Mesmir..." Seymour mumbled, his head turning to one side on the pillow.

Mesmir shook his head swiftly once so hard it resembled more of a quick jerk. "No."

"What is there to live for... For this suffering... " Was the lethargic and emotionless reason that came from Seymour's white lips, already he looked dead lying there, like something that had lost all possible hope.

"Get yourself out of here, we need to get you out into the open. Where the air and the trees and the plants will revive you and your spirit."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"Healer Kemplar....?" Echoed Jyscal's voice.

"Yes your grace?" Bowed the middle-aged Guado. It was at the flat platform of the Farplane, all around shimmering red and blue pyre flies floated, all around they sang their colours shining, casting their illusions on any mind trained to understand or converse with them.

Jyscal stepped onto the levitating platform, addressing the tall Guado before him. Lord Jyscal was wearing a worried expression, as he asked, "You saw my son, what is your diagnosis?"

"He has _baver_. In its advanced stages, it cannot be cured anymore." Kemplar swept around regally in his colourful and heavy silk linen clothes, "You do know that it is you who is responsible."

Jyscal swallowed and nodded, looking away from the healer's yellow eyes. It was as though the healer could read his mind, just by gazing into the windows of his soul. He asked, "Is there anything to ease his suffering...?"

"No."

"What have I done to him..." Jyscal said silently, more to himself than to the wise healer standing with him on the mysterious hovering platform. The sounds of pyre flies rang in his ears, as if stressing the healer's verdict. Far away shone the pale sun of the Farplane, the trees swaying silently in the breeze from nowhere.

Kemplar stroked his yellow beard and sighed. "If it consoles you my lord, it will not affect his intelligence."

"You–"

"I have already done what I can." Assured the healer clinically, as if he had broken such unpleasant news many times before.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

The two old friends walked together in the field, and Mesmir kept Seymour company. As the light green grass rustled in the gentle breeze, he gazed up into the sky, and watched the white clouds roll by. The pain of his injuries forced him to sit down, and to lean against one of the many grey boulders dotting the field.

The half-breed just did not feel like talking it felt tiring and pointless, but was grateful for Mesmir's company. He smelt the tender scent of concern coming from his black-haired friend but there was no need to say anything, because he knew Mesmir could sense his gratitude and contentment.

It was a rare moment of silent understanding between friends. When they smelt and sensed each other, listening to the sounds of each other's breathing.

"Mesmir, where is Aela?"

"Away on a healing course. She will be back soon enough to see you. Did not Kemplar tell you? He would know being her uncle." Said Mesmir, his black hair so black it almost appeared blue.

"I hope to see her soon." Seymour looked up at the sky and the greying clouds. "It looks like rain is approaching. I do so like the rain. The sound it makes."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

It was late in the night. Seymour stood in his marble bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. He could not get used to his new garb, it was too warm for him. Frowning, he pulled open his vest baring his variously mutilated chest.

Looking at it, he felt defiant standing there. He felt as though he wanted to parade around like this, he wanted everyone to see. At the same time he detested the appearance of the scars, they were ugly and tasteless. Perhaps he should cover them up with tattoos.

He smirked at the thought. That smirk contrasting with what he felt within his heaving chest. That same agony turning over again and again as if fighting to burst forth from the confines of its prison of organs, bone and skin.

Secretly he hated his father. Deep inside he also hated himself. So much contrast between his external facade and the striking truth that lay within. Seymour had grown up dysfunctional, with crooked and deformed thoughts like deformed branches of a tree thoroughly infected with disease.

Biting his sleeve, he went down the marble stairs of the manor entwined with twisting roots. His heart was thumping uneasily, he felt as though he needed to run. Run, where he was not thinking. He tripped and fell forward down onto his chest. His face screwing in pain and discomfort, forcing himself to get up, his blue claws scrabbling on the carpeted mossy stairs.

On his feet again, he went across the hard marble floor of the hall and went out through the double-doors. The cold and dark night was everywhere surrounding him. Just like what it was like in the lonely grey nights of Baaj. Just like what it felt before he went mad. Just as how it felt countless times before he tried to commit suicide.

It was so unfair, why could he not just drop dead? He wandered outside, not even bothering to put on foot wear. As he walked, he could feel the thin winding branches on the floor of the streets of Gaudosalam. It must be very late in the dead of the night, because the floor and moss was damp with glittering dew. He walked and walked, and for reasons unknown found himself attracted to the voice of rumbling thunder.

The perilous Thunder Plains... Beautiful. Flashing here and there suddenly, the plains blue and grey, the clouds and always so dark. Starry starry night. Always steadily swirling, always so dangerous. He liked it, not thinking very much he stepped out away from the lightning tower he stood under. There was a low rumble, followed by a bright flash. That fast white streak pierced the ground inches from his right foot, leaving the area charred. Without much feeling the young priest looked at the hot vapour coming off the rock and gravel.

He foolishly gave a shout and ran as swiftly as he could. The pain of the rough rocks and soil grazing the soles of his feet did not stop him or slow him down. He did not get far. In a blinding flash of light he was struck down. He opened his dry mouth, gaping in pain. No scream came out.

Would he die this time? He was so much in pain, it stopped him from feeling much of anything else... All he could think of was going to the Farplane for his relief. But still he would not see his purple behemoth again. He wanted her here, although she was gone, evaporated. He had consumed her flesh, but... It was not enough! He wanted to sense her feelings again, to smell her strong and musky maternal scent... To hear the loud heartbeat of her behemoth's body, sleeping next to her gargantuan purple side... To feel so safe.

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"He tried to commit suicide my liege." Tromell reported to his master, who was sitting in his lavish study, writing a letter.

"By the gods..." Jyscal laid a huge sapphire-clawed palm on his forehead, simultaneously dropping his pen. "Where is he now Tromell?"

"Resting. In the healer's house." Came Tromell's weary voice. "My Lord, permission to speak?"

Lord Jyscal did not reply, but gave leave with a gesture.

"I too am worried about him..."

"He is still so young Tromell, I did not know what was I thinking by sending him there. Who would have thought that Amina could just abandon him like so!"

Tromell had his eyes shut, his bushy green brows low, thinking of the change in Jyscal's behaviour, the guilt his master experienced sending his wife and son away. Even now he could smell the turbulent conflict, his master's acute confusion. Lingering anger, resentment, burning regret, bitter-sweet love...

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Healer Kemplar bowed his yellow-haired head, standing next to the bed in which his patient lay. The young man was asleep, his neck and shoulder charred from being struck by lightning– twice. Kemplar gently pulled the blanket higher up, covering the boy's scarred chest. He said softly, "Young Seymour, I pray that you at least learn to love, and to be kind to yourself."

All around his infirmary, were dim lamps, casting yellow and orange hues. The place warm and safe, a sweet-smelling incense was burnt to calm the patient. The floor all made of wood and roots. Thick and sturdy beds were covered with grey-green moss, that spread its fluffy tendrils over carved stone and specially moulded roots to form them.

Across the room, was a simple table. And it was where the healer went to again to continue grinding medicine in a rough rock bowl. Kemplar thought, "Poor boy." At the corner of his eye, he watched the young Guado twisting his claws into the blanket as he slept, even from a fair distance, he could smell the unsteady emotion known as distress.

There was so much about the boy. So much negativity, so many issues. So many reasons to make him have such thoughts for suicide. In healing him and diagnosing the young Guado, he sensed as a healer a diseased soul. More than just a serious infection of the pyre flies in his system (baver) but also smouldering hate, self-loathing. Suspicion. Heavy and nagging mourning. It was also a challenge in treating him, being half-human. Kemplar knew not to mention the fact at all, lest the young one get distressed. He could tell the boy was sensitive about it, the way he looked at the Guado anatomy charts wistfully, his blue eyes blank yet bitter. Envious even.

The pale aquamarine-haired one stirred in his sleep, and came conscious. The thick sheets rustled as he struggled against them to get up. "I... "

"Hush up my child, go back to sleep." The healer stopped grinding herbs, to give Seymour his full attention. He breathed in deeply and exhaled. "You are hungry, come to the kitchen."

There he watched his haggard patient sip hot vegetable soup. Kemplar's eyes appearing gold in the light. He knew what would come of this... he knew what thoughts and plans were coming into the boy's mind. Illnesses could be cured, but not fixed opinions. Not such destructive and perverted ideas. Not such morbid attraction to mass death.

Kemplar frowned, and prayed silently that young Seymour would find peace before he went down that fell path of ruin.

End Chapter 26

••••••••••••

This chapter is dedicated to **nephilim379**, **Cid**, and **MarquetteFan33**.

Also not forgetting **wolfdemon22.**

**You people light my fire in reviewing man!!! Damn,**

**it's been like 2 months!!!**

•••••••

Why have I taken so long? Doctor visits. Medication. Doctor visits. Medical dog tag. Blood tests. It would appear that I have epilepsy. Gods... Stay tuned, and _review_ man! It somehow inspires me to work faster.


	27. For What We Did To Him

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X fan-fic

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

--

_The time is still after young Seymour has just returned from Baaj. A break from the main story. Seymour is currently staying in Healer Kemplar's house out in the forests of Guadosalam, where there is more greenery and running streams in contrast to the harsh coldness of Macalania woods_.

Dear audience. Recall that Jyscal and Lady Amina mentioned before in the game, that they allowed him to "become twisted" and how they "could not forgive themselves for what they did to him"(... at least to that effect.) "He was always alone. Half Guado, half man."

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The time was in the early afternoon. The yellow-haired healer sat near the window, writing a letter to Lord Jyscal regarding the emotional and physical health of his son. He watched intently the dazed young Guado sitting outside on the soft green grass, under a tree that spread its branches over him. The injured boy appeared to be taking a nap, with the back of his blue head against the bark of the tree. Presently he was garbed in non-restrictive clothing. A soft brown robe with a loose grey talmek, his feet bare.

_Greetings Lord Jyscal,_

_Your son is recovering, I will release him from my infirmary in a week's time._

_His neck and shoulder is mending very well, no signs of infection._

_Although his baver cannot be cured, its degree of seriousness can be_

_minimised with careful and measured doses of medicine._

_There is no denying the fact that spending a decade, and growing up alone,_

_in a harsh environment and having no company but that of a behemoth's_

_has affected him. He has very poor social skills, he must socialise more._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Kemplar_

Seymour was actually just resting his eyes. The herbs he was given made him all drowsy and slow in reaction. It was peaceful though, it dulled his mind, and he could not think too much or worry. The herbs also helped dull the pain from the burns on his neck and shoulder, lying beneath clean white bandages. More importantly they gave him relief from sadness and thoughts on how to die. Breathing slowly the clean air of the forest, he moved his fingers on the ground feeling the grass. He thought, 'This must be what it is like to be dead...'

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Keeping watch on the blue-haired half-breed sleeping outside, Kemplar carefully jotted down notes into a thin wood fibre bound book. The paper naturally a cream colour. It was to be a long-term record for Seymour. He wrote;

_Patient is half human. Baver in advanced stage. Incurable. Patient will have memory loss after episodes of craziness and rage. Has to be on medicine for a minimal of four years. Non-terminal. Treatment more complicated, due to fact of certain herbs being highly poisonous to human beings. No risks will be taken, weaker medicine is to be prescribed._

_Physically is very fit and has unnatural strength. Healthy in body, no deficiencies of vitamins or mineral. Excellent bone density._

_Other note-worthy aspects of patient:_

_Patient shows signs of self-loathing and chronic depression, hence the act of intentional and non-intentional self-mutilation. Fortunately not of a masochistic nature. Traumatic and isolated childhood._

The healer put away the notebook and pen, thinking and reviewing in his mind the last few days of treating Seymour. His appetite was improving, although he was inactive. What was most important was that the young one's mind and worries were put on hold. There was too much stress on his mind, too much stress on his heart. Poor thing, he would need alot of rest and perhaps counselling to a certain extent.

Kemplar smiled, remembering what the boy said to him yesterday.

"_Durer_?" Seymour softly addressed him by the traditional name for a healer.

"Yes?"

"I am sick of vegetable soup and steamed fibre. Can I not take my medication, so that I can–"

"No. You will have to stay here, and I shan't have you getting indigestion. This medicine does not blend well with food difficult to digest. Now drink your medicine." Kemplar had said, gesturing his large clawed hand at the little bottle and spoon.

"Can I go ahead and have indigestion?"

Smiling and snapping out of that recollection, Kemplar got up and went to check on a different youngling with a high fever.

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"Aela, is that you...?" Seymour squinted, she smelt like how she did as he recalled, sincere and non-judgemental. But she appeared so different, if he were to come into contact with her at the streets of Guadosalam he would not have realised it.

"Seymour, I am so glad to see you again!" Aela exclaimed, all kinds of different thoughts going through her mind, she touched her knuckles to his.

"Do not get up." Mesmir pushed his friend back down onto his seat. "Just sit and breathe in the fresh air and breeze.

Seymour slightly sleepy, his blue eyes half-covered with his lashes said, "I am happy to see you again. But humiliated at the same time that you have to see–"

"I heard about it, and I can smell it on you." Aela shook her head, holding his hand. She noticed he was weakly keeping eye contact with her, yet his eyes had a quiet intensity about them, secretive but not deceptive. Hopeless and yet still glimmering with purpose.

Mesmir nodded. "Even from here, I can smell it." He stepped forward, inhaling to be sure.

Seymour sighed and closed his eyes. "I cannot smell myself, being the half-breed freak that I am."

Aela went on, "Please do not do anything like that again. Stop it Seymour, even if you are a half-breed, you are good."

"Let's return to Kemplar's house." Said Mesmir, pulling Seymour up. "This is sudden. I sense the rain is coming." That statement was confirmed with a low rumble of distant thunder.

"I will not try and die, because the result will be the same. The fayth will not let me die." Seymour said in a monotone. Good, was he good? What meant to be 'good?' At the same time he felt his arm being put over Mesmir's shoulders, and led in a steady aided walk.

The two Guado laid their childhood friend back into his bed at the infirmary, and watched him succumb to exhaustion falling fast asleep. The afternoon was giving way to the early evening. An hour later, Kemplar shooed them off. He said, "Go to, return home."

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At an unknown hour in the dead of the night, Seymour woke up. He had been at the healer's house for a few days already. Soon he would be sent home. It was a blur of eating medicine, sleeping and resting. Half-aware of his surroundings. Or conversing with wise Kemplar.

In the inky darkness he reflected on what he was told. The smell of the flower and grass incense had become familiar to him, and it served its function well calming and collecting him. He felt secure here, the silence. Contentment resting on the soft bed.

"Why do you so want to end your life boy?" Was the direct and yet gently put question, the two of them were in the living hollow. Under the infirmary, here roots sanded smooth were the walls, and dry fragrant moss was the soft floor. It was a cosy little place, specially for conversation. At one side near the door was an elegant rock and marble fireplace. Intricate and detailed.

Seymour had remained silent for a moment, choosing his words carefully. What he felt was so difficult to describe accurately. "Because I hurt and suffer, I know nothing will be okay, I know it can never... To end I must die."

"In all life there is suffering, the only difference is that some suffer more, some suffer less." Seeing that Seymour made no reply, the healer continued. "You will get better. In this sense, better being more resistant to pain."

Seymour fingered the variously coloured beads hanging down his chest.

"You should do that when you feel anxiety." Kemplar observed, smelling a slight scent of comfort. "A gift from your mother?" Kemplar leaned back in his armchair, the fire burning in his fireplace caused shadows to flicker here and there.

"She did not give them to me... I." He closed his eyes, ashamed and guilty. "I took them from her dress after she...." His breath became unsteady.

"Be calm, let us not go where your wounds will be reopened?"

Seymour nodded a few times slowly.

"You should go out, speak to your friends about this. Since they know you?"

Seymour stopped thinking, and pulled the blanket and sheets higher up his chest in the dark. Again he felt sleepy in the blackness, and without much incident or difficulty he returned to sleep.

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Baaj temple had been finished. Lord Jyscal had stood there and watched as the very last roughly cut stone was laid and cemented. It was by his orders that the stones were cut that way, he felt that it suited the atmosphere and it was not to be welcoming at all. His wife had become a fayth, and though it was too late he now wanted her protected. It was by his orders that the court of Yevon be unaware of this new secret temple. No-one was to know, about the very heartless thing he did.

There, he was at the dark and misty island. A Guado boatman waited for him at the constructed dock. Lord Jyscal with difficulty forced his legs to take him to where Lady Amina was, encased in a crystal dome. All about him was cold, hard stone closing in on him as he walked toward the chamber of the fayth. It was so silent even his breathing echoed in the hallway, and then the tunnel. When he stepped through the feathered doorway, he saw her.

Even like so... She looked. Beautiful in the warm light of the flickering torches. He knelt putting both his clawed hands onto the clear dome. He imagined that her face would look just the same, if she were not prone shrouded with rich red and purple silks with iron chains in that unbreakable case. He steadied himself, his mind and emotions, trying his best to contact her.

Then, as if it was but a dream he saw her translucent form. Standing upon the top of the surface of where her real body was. The two stared at each other, as strangers and yet so much more. Only his breath fogged the air, hers, even if she had any to speak of did not.

He called her name, asking for forgiveness. She replied that it was too late. It was over, she was dead. She was a fayth. All the proud leader of the Guado had was searing regret, like a permanent branding. Then she in return apologised, for what she did to their son. Jyscal weeping sorrowfully, insisted that they both contributed to this trauma. They knew their son Seymour would never grow up normal. Never. What was done, was done. But still, the pain was there for the both of them. They went on and cried over spilt milk.

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"This is your last day, here with me. After a thorough check-up and after taking your last dose of medicinal herbs you are free to go."

"Thank you Durer." Said Seymour, blinking as the morning light shone through the metal mullioned windows and into his sensitive eyes.

"I support that idea of yours to get your chest tattooed. Do not waste my effort on you, do not pick up that habit of clawing at your chest."

"I will not." Seymour bowed his head, as the healer walked around him.

"Child, do not mind your hair. I know by the way you stare in the mirror."

"It is ugly." Seymour murmured, thinking about how silly his hair looked with his present haircut. It was not at all flattering, semi-long did not suit him at all.

"It may be, but you must gracefully accept what you are. I am optimistic for you, because as anti-social as you are, you have two very close friends. Keep them near, and speak to them often. When you feel an episode, run away to a place where there is no-one, and let yourself go. Baver has potential for one to commit murder if left pent-up and simmering in one's heart."

"Understood Durer." Seymour said, bowing his blue head.

Healer Kemplar gave a nod, and breathed out signifying the finality of the moment and said, "Now be off with you. Go take your herbs and drink your tea. I have to go into the forest to get fungi and mushrooms."

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After being used to his new life in civilisation, Seymour developed much needed social skills and began studying, increasing his general knowledge of as many things as possible. In the manor, the library was his usual haunt with a cup of sweet tea.

At least the books and the priceless knowledge they contained distracted him from his condition. He discovered that he had a very formidable attention span, able to just keep going onwards and onwards. There was so much to know and understand, and somehow he felt more aware.

Then he made time to tattoo his chest. He had enjoyed the reactions of everyone who saw him in his new strange wardrobe, baring his chest. His father simply stared blankly for a moment. He expected a harsh, angry, perhaps violent reaction. But no, there was nothing.

It was at the foot of the stairs in the manor when Jyscal saw him. Defiantly Seymour looked into his hated father's blue eyes, standing there ready. But Jyscal slowly looked away, and with no emotion made his way up to the master bedroom. He was too far away to sense or smell what he felt.

He knew he was half-human. He hated it, although he accepted it. No longer in unhealthy denial. "Since I am a freak, I should dress and act like one."

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There was however, a side that Seymour did not see. Here it was, Lord Jyscal, after seeing his son change so much... He thought about what he could do, could he teach his son as fathers do important lessons in life? He could but, Seymour would not listen. When he spoke to his son, the boy although there, was distrustful of him. He smelt disinterest. Sometimes even hate.

Observing his son as the days went by, he knew that the island had made Seymour strong and violent. But underdeveloped emotionally, and twisted. It looked as though he very much enjoyed killing, if or not during his episodes.

Then, it appeared as though they were lessening in frequency...

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"Mesmir but why? Seymour is our friend, he is just confused and troubled, he–" Said Aela, aghast.

"He was serious. I sensed it very strongly. You should have seen the determination... nay. The stubborn way his eyes cut into mine. I could not look at him." Mesmir shook his head, shuddering at the revelation.

"Are you sure... So much so that you had to make a death threat?" Asked Aela sympathetically and uncertainly.

"I was sorry to."

Both old friends stared at each other in silence. One had lamp black eyes, the other dark gold. Both wondered what happened, why did he become like so. Emotionless. Cold. Now this! With very affected morals and codes. Seymour had so become a different person altogether.

Aela was frowning. She looked up and wondered aloud, "Will time heal everything?"

"Time is not enough. He will need guidance, but not from us."

**End Chapter twenty-seven**

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_Dear readers, I apologise for the short chapter. Well, but at the very least I am getting more constant again don't you all agree?_

_Yours truly,_

_Master Of Sorrow_

••••••••••••••


	28. We Move

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X fan-fic

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

--

_And now we return to the main story...._

"Yuna, I want you to forgive me. I did not want you to get upset... You are still healing." Seymour held her hand, his face indifferent, but his piercing blue eyes pleading.

"I understand your intentions Seymour, but you should have told me all the same!" Yuna sighed, worried. "I want to go back to Besaid..."

They were sitting high up at the tree-top restaurantlooking at the scenery. The breeze blew gently, causing the foliage and branches to sway slowly. The leaves rustled, as if sighing about the predicament in Spira.

"I want to come with you Yuna, but I can't go because of the insanity happening at Bevelle, my duties as maester conflict with my duties as a husband. I-" Began the half-breed regretfully.

"Don't worry Seymour, I'll be safe with my adopted family there." Reassured Yuna, softly stroking Seymour's slightly pointed ear.

"At least spend the evening with me?" Implored Seymour, holding both of her small hands.

His eyes appeared violet because of the bright sunlight, they pierced Yuna's unique blue and green ones. She could see a fiery need in them. Desire. Yuna gasped when she felt that his claws pricked her skin slightly.

"Okay." She whispered.

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In the evening after Seymour had done his daily tasks at the temple, and after both had finished teaching their respective classes, they spent time together in private.

"I will miss you..." Yuna said in Seymour's arms, her face against his warm tattooed chest. They were out by the docks in the open night. The sky above them twinkled with tiny white stars. They were two solitary lone figures in the moonlight, clasped together.

"It pains me." Seymour murmured. One hand rubbing the small of her bare back, the other around her waist. Their faces were very close together. He could feel her breath fanning against his skin, her eyes half closed.

As she raised her head upwards, he put his mouth onto hers and kissed her, tightening his hold on her petite body. She clutched his thick vest, pressing her chest onto his. Seymour's hand found its way onto the back of her head, cradling it and pulling her closer. He gasped for a moment, looking at the way she was flushing pink before kissing her again. He felt her soft lips against his, while she felt Seymour's lips tensing. The kiss grew deeper, their tongues raking each other's.

Their breathing grew unsteady, and both felt hot and impassioned. Blushing, Yuna made it worse for Seymour by running her hand down to his stomach... and then lower. Kissing his neck, she whispered to him feeling him. "You're tense."

He squirmed as he felt her teasing and kneading him, taking in his breath sharply with his eyes shut. He gave a low moan feeling the pleasure she could give him. He gasped, "if we were home..."

"You could come and see me in Besaid, even for a little while." She said, placing both her hands on his face. In the dark, she could see his facial veins dark with desire.

They kissed once more before they parted. Seymour, proving his trust and love to her, laid his beads around Yuna's neck. In turn, she endowed him with her silver chain.

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"Maester Mika..." Came the voice of a messenger. "The leader, Cid of the Al Bhed has once again put down our pleas to release the captive summoners."

On a majestic red-carpeted bridge in Bevelle, Mika stood there deep in thought with his hands behind his back, and at the same time disturbed. The white clouds overhead were turning grey, signifying rain. The old man nodded his capped head, silently dismissing the messenger.

The Al Bhed were secretly their allies. They knew nothing of the anti-Yevon group, where did they come from, and who supplied their weapons. More likely they salvaged their machina from some ruins. There were too many of such ruins littered about Spira for them to check, and what was more scholars predicted many undiscovered ruins, records and maps of them lost in time.

Now already there was more than just the anti-Yevon group to worry about. The temple of Yevon was losing power. Gossip flourished vibrantly. Maester Mika had his brows furrowed in worry.

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At Mount Gagazet, through a blizzard came dozens of soldiers. A Ronso spied them on icy rocks, watching them with his hot breath fogging air in front of his muzzle. The moment he spotted them holding guns, he ran up the steep slopes to warn his home beasts.

Biran as the strongest warrior in the tribe stood at the stone pillars, tall and proud with his burly arms folded. The wind blowing his dense and majestic yellow mane. All around him, standing on cliffs and outcrops were fellow Ronso warriors male and female. All tense and anticipating what they all were experts of; war.

In a moment they saw their enemies. The anti-Yevon soldiers. Their sharp ears caught them saying, "The Ronso must be the first to fall, their faith in Yevon is the strongest!"

Biran stepped forward, baring his sharp teeth. "One chance, turn back. Or we rend you asunder!"

The anti-Yevon soldiers did not falter. Shamelessly they charged. "Death to Maester Kelk!"

The battle was brief, only lasting an hour. Naturally the Ronso won, but not without casualties. Although true warriors, they were not bullet-proof. Eight of their kind had fallen, more than two dozen injured. Their enemy? Dead to the last man.

Yenke huffed, throwing aside a bent machina weapon into the blood-stained snow. He snorted his yellow eyes blazing, "Gun is cowardly weapon. Even the weak can wield."

A lithe female with a green woven band around her head said, "Must send letter to Bevelle. Maester Kelk must know."

Biran kicked a dead body, sending it rolling off. It fell and crashed over the jagged grey rocks below. "Biran want revenge. Before letter, clean up mess."

An older Ronso, much taller than Biran suggested. "Better lay bodies neat. Far from village. Then Bevelle can inspect."

That night, all Ronso sharpened their spears, halberds and pole-arms. There was danger, like never before for a thousand years.

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On the Isle of Besaid, Kimahri pricked his ears and raised his head attentively. As the wind from the sea blew inward, he smelt...

"What is it Kimahri?" Asked Tidus who was sitting with him, watching the orange sun set into the obsidian sea, waves calmly rippling.

"Yuna is near."

The small Ronso was right, in the distance amongst other vessels, was a Guado craft slowly approaching. The reunion between the summoner and her adopted family was endearing and heartfelt, but short-lived. For Wakka, Lulu, Kimahri and Tidus knew that there would be turbulence and conflict. Spira was a complete mess, and people were getting more and more paranoid. Some parents in more populated areas were insisting that school should stop.

They ate dinner at Wakka's tent like they always did, but now just taking comfort in each other's presence. Conversation was slow and concerned. Lulu asked about how bad was the attack at Macalania temple, and it turned out that it was much more worse compared to the one that happened a few days before right there in Besaid.

Kimahri, sitting at the table was eating lesser than usual. Tidus wore a most unusual expression of anxiety. Lulu's voice had more gravity than ever, and Wakka had no mood to play blitzball. That night, the entire village was quiet, there was no music, no stories at the camp fire. Yuna noticed fear and yet at the same time resignation.

Everyone else, stayed close in their warm tents with their families. Weapons laying near them, lest they should encounter danger. At the very least, Sin was not attacking.

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In the desert strode the legendary guardian, Sir Auron. Now was the only time when the desert was cold, and the sand looked grey. The night, light from the stars and the moon shone down on him, guiding him and keeping him company with their celestial presence. It was one of those rare times when he kept his sunglasses in his pocket, but as usual preparing for a fight, he shouldered his heavy smoke black katana. His gloved hand tightening on its stiff hilt.

With his one good eye he could see his destination. It was the metallic Home of the Al Bhed. Steadily although his boots kept sinking into the fine sand, he continued. Planning his objective. Stealth was not his strong point however, and for this breaking-and-entering it would have to be loud and full of drama.

At the door, he swung his sword hard into the thick iron with a loud resonant sound. He yelled and with all his might, pulled his weapon though ignoring the alarms going off and the machina lights flashing. He had begun using both of his hands instead of one.

To the armed and combat-suited Al Bhed coming out, he roared only one thing; "Give me the summoners or else!" He ignored their shouts in their native tongue, and flourished his blade. He ran past them when they started shooting at him. Then in the long, and strange corridor their bald leader, Cid appeared.

Cid's eyes widened. "Sir Auron...?"

"I am here for the summoners." Auron, direct as ever announced.

The Al Bhed guards stood down, and the alarms were turned off by Cid's order. Inhabitants were told that everything was fine, and that there was no more cause for panic.

Cid shook his head stubbornly. "I won't let them go off to die."

"I cannot guarantee that none of them will die. But I can promise that my cause is for the calm that no-one on Spira has felt for a thousand years. An eternal one." Said the red warrior, adjusting his tall collar.

"But–" Spluttered Cid, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I have my means." Auron replied casually. "Now let them go."

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"What do you make of this my lord?" Asked a monk, staying close to the old gentleman in the snow, making sure that no harm befell him.

At Gagazet, the Maesters stood where all the dead anti-Yevon soldiers lay dead. Their bodies still fresh due to being frozen. The pyre flies had all gone now, after they had been sent by the local Ronso shaman.

Seymour said solemnly, "They want to wipe off Yevon's influence."

Kinoc was far off, crouching in the snow looking at the dead. "Where do they come from...? Hmm... One thing at least, there are less now compared to before. How they recruit still escapes us, but they are running out of soldiers."

Kelk spoke up. "It is not a good sign. We can expect more careful and calculated attacks from them starting now onwards."

Seymour thought aloud, "Less to expend?"

"Precisely." Came the elderly Ronso's confirmation. He raised his horn and said, "Please Maester Mika, we all should seek shelter from the snow and wind. Inside we may think better and discuss."

Maester Mika led the way in the snow, as the harsh and bitter wind blew pulling at their thick clothing.

The Ronso public square was a half-open area, the grey granite stone floors wire-brushed. It was, like the Ronso dwellings, cut into the face of the rocky mountain itself. Even the thick arches high above were carved right out of it, there was not a single brick or tile in sight.

There was a type of rugged grandeur about the square, and yet for all its primitive qualities there were also civilised ones. Brightly coloured woven fabrics bearing bold tribal geometric designs were draped here and there, and the spot where the Maesters were to sit was around a huge wooden table. Also roughly cut, but sanded down as smooth and flat as a block of ice. Past the public square, presiding higher up and over-looking were the homes of the Ronso.

Seymour sat with his fellows, and half-listened to the conversation. He observed that as usual the talk and discussion brought little or no progress on what was there to do. He wanted to speak up and say that there was no need for all this talk, the situation was hopeless. Spira wanted its summoners back.

Kinoc was speaking. "My lord, I can hardly come up with any other stories to tell the interviewers and paparazzi. They want answers! We have to take the summoners back by force."

Mika had his eyes closed. "I'm afraid that it has to be so then." His voice echoed slightly off the rock walls.

Seymour looked at Kelk, who had his horn held low. The half-breed said, "How unfortunate that more lives have to be lost."

Kinoc wore a wry smile, "why, I find it quite surprising that you have more and more compassion Seymour."

The Guado turned his blue-haired head to Kinoc and gave a mild retort in his smooth voice. "I did not speak against the possible assault. I am just regretful that we have no choice and that such an action has to be taken."

"When?" Kelk suddenly spoke in his loud and regal voice.

"As soon as possible." Mika mumbled, stroking his white beard. "Send a letter to Bevelle right now."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"I never knew that I could be so high up before, and not by means of magic." Said Lady Donna, peering out the window of the machina airship they were on.

Cid had loaned the thing to Auron, but of course it was not he who flew the ship, but Rikku and Brother. Their destination was Besaid Island.

Isaaru sat nearby on a cushioned seat. "I feel awful."

Rikku called from the cockpit, "It's air sickness! Hang in there, we'll be landing soon!"

"What kind of malady is that?" Breathed the latter, rubbing his forehead.

Dona sat next to him and put her arm over his slumped shoulders saying, "Must be the air."

**End of Chapter twenty-eight**

••••••••

Thank you dear readers for your reviews and encouragement!!! The next few chapters will either make or break this story. So I've got to make sure that I don't f*ck this up.

Anything in particular that you all want to see?

Yours truly,

Master of Sorrow

*swallows medication* Goddamn epilepsy!


	29. We Guado and Ronso

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X fan-fic

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

--

The freed summoners and their arrival by an ancient machina airship was kept secret by Sir Auron's orders. As predicted the people on Besaid Island were surprised and at the same time ecstatic that the summoners were out and fine in health and mind.

When Tidus asked why that all this had to be kept secret, Auron slyly said that it would be easier later for Spira to take the truth about the Temple of Yevon. With all its sham and drudgery. All the lies and how it all became a false culture in the space of a full millennia, and how they were actually worshipping the fayth of an insane old man. Yu Yevon, wearing the pyre flies of former final aeons as its reputed to be– invincible armour.

Telling Spira now that the summoners were back, although it would calm them will only raise once more their faith in the Temple of Yevon. Auron said that it would be more difficult for the moment of revelation.

They had stayed for a few weeks already, Yuna was not allowed to go back to wooded Guadosalam, and so she only wrote short and plain letters to a worried Seymour. Auron had warned her not to tell her husband of their plans. He said, he could feel the time was soon. Auron when asked of what he meant by that, and how he knew, would reply in a very cryptic and mysterious manner in which no-one understood what he meant, at the same time doing his familiar gesture of adjusting his black sunglasses.

Other than the summoners training, they had managed to get their relieved guardians back. For now there seemed to be no greater summoner or lesser guardian. They all were nervous and uncertain, no final aeon. No final summoning. Just raw might and bravery required. Some of them felt that it all was not real or unreal, there was only unconditional faith that they would succeed. They had to.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Back in Guadosalam, Seymour stared at his clear reflection in his full body mirror. "Yuna..." He breathed softly in the dim light. "Yuna." He repeated, fingering the silver chain around his neck.

He closed his eyes briefly, thinking of her. He was unsettled by the things that were going on. He shivered, he could not sleep tonight. There was danger, and few things were safe anymore. Mesmir had prepared Guadosalam for war if needed.

Plants and thick poisonous vines, with their inch-long thorns covered the outsides of the forest, making Guadosalam so much more enclosed than before. There was a definite stillness about the place, like something could happen although his Guado went about in their daily affairs as per normal.

Maybe it was the different way light penetrated the place, the shapes of the thorny vines, the way the sinister shining thorns threatened and protected at the same time. Seymour sighed at the thought.

He pulled off his robes and grimaced slightly, his back now tattooed. The design of a ferocious behemoth was sprawled covering it, claws and teeth all bared and at the ready. Naked, he made his way down to the bath downstairs, he needed some way to help him sleep!

The young Maester found that he could barely think sharply, he squinted as the hot water poured into the stone pool slowly, the area in the soft light fogging up in vapour. He had decided that when there was a chance, irresponsible or not he had to see his Yuna at Besaid Island.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

The crowd chanted together in unison.

_Where are the summoners?_

_Where are the summoners?_

"Push the crowd back, before they demolish the temple!" Cried maester Kinoc. His eyes were wide at how the crowd was behaving, waving their little protest signs. They had been there for hours, and their impatience was growing and growing.

A monk nearby whispered to Kinoc, "Sir, you must tell them something. Tell them the truth!"

Amidst the screaming and protests Kinoc half-glared at that suggestion. "Are you crazy? What, you want me to say that the Al Bhed are holding the summoners captive?!"

The monk bowed his clean shaven head apologetically, his eyes following the rows and rows of faces, and mouths protesting loudly and without uncertainty. He was sad that the crowd just was doing this simply because they had nothing left to do. Protesting was simply to make them feel better, because they could not accept the hard and painful truth that the summoners were all gone.

Kinoc turned to the crowd and brought his arms up, "No. We do not have the summoners. Times are changing! Including the temple of Yevon!" He then turned away, sweating profusely from the faces of the people and walked down the red carpet, away from them knowing that a single slip of the tongue could mean absolute and complete disaster.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

_Three weeks later..._

"I must say that Sir Auron is as usual, his withdrawn and solitary self?" Remarked Seymour, twirling his stave expertly. He was squinting in the light of the bright sun, and was doing something he rarely did. Sweating.

Yuna looked up at him and smiled, feeling the Besaid beach sand under her feet. Finally Seymour had come to visit although the situation was getting worse and worse in Spira. Now, for reasons due to gossip, there were riots now, focused against the Al Bhed. The anti-Yevon terrorists had not acted for all this while, and Mika was expecting that they do sometime soon. Everyone, although outwardly calm were on their toes.

Seymour brought his stave against Yuna's, "Why will he not tell the public that the summoners are all here? All this fighting practice?"

Neatly avoiding Seymour's attack, Yuna stepped back nimbly her odd-coloured eyes twinkling in the bright sunlight. "A secret that I mustn't tell you about."

Seymour sighed frowning, and held his red ornate stave lowered to the fine white sand. "I dislike secrets." He smelt her tense slightly, as she twisted her fingers around her staff.

"Seymour, they're going to fight Sin. That's all you're getting out of me!" She laughed. "Do you trust me Seymour?"

The young maester nodded his blue-haired head once, and continued sparring with his wife. How could he doubt her? He decided to change the subject for now. "Have you always been this good?"

"No. I would say that I've improved alot since." Yuna admitted, stepping aside neatly.

Seymour came closer to her, brushing his knuckles through her soft hair. "At least I need not worry so much, you can protect yourself." He frowned and looked away towards the blue waves.

"Don't think of that."

He turned his veined Guado face to her and gave her a wry smile. "How did you know?"

"If there was anyone more traumatised than you, it was me. Don't worry, I will be very careful with Maester Kinoc."

From the two, further down the beach being watched by the Besaid Aurochs was Isaaru and Donna having an aggressive aeon fight. The fight was getting wilder and wilder by the second, and before anyone knew it the two were walking on the waves with their aeons doing battle between them.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

It was long after dinner, and the crickets could be heard singing in the grass through the thick cloth of Yuna's tent. The night was blue and peaceful, white stars were scattered in the velvet blue sky and clouds were wispy grey shapes among them.

Seymour and Yuna lay close together, half-asleep.

"Yuna, I must return soon. When I am gone... Can you assure me that you will take care of yourself?"

In the dark she reached for his huge hand. "Why?" She asked, confused at the sudden question.

"I shall not answer. The reason is obvious with me as your husband. You taught me that I had wrong values and beliefs. I feel so strongly for you. I never want to lose you, or let you get harmed in any way." He whispered, his tenor voice softer than usual. Now, so clandestine and tender.

"Okay."

He closed his eyes and pulled her to him, breathing in her smell. He could tell that she felt safe with him presently, and he was so glad in the trust she put in him. "Promise me..."

"I promise."

"Oh Yuna, I'm sorry for my damned insecurity... You trust me more than I trust you!" Hissed Seymour through his teeth guiltily.

"It's okay. Trust can only come in time, faster for others, longer for some." Yuna tried to calm him by rubbing his pointed ears.

"I will try my best not to worry." Seymour answered. "By the way, have you decided if or not you would like to come for the invitation for diplomatic relations at Mt. Gagazet?"

"Yes, I want to go. I'm just a little sad that Kimahri isn't." Said Yuna in the darkness.

"Must be his past issues with some Ronso there I presume?"

"Specifically Biran his brother." Yuna sighed. "I'll tell you more on the way there."

"I wonder if we should take a leaf out of his book and skip it altogether, Kinoc will be there. Our favourite enemy."

"Oh Seymour don't say such things, it's mean!"

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"Lady Yuna. How was journey here to sacred mountain Gagazet?" Intoned a gruff Ronso guard against the howling wind.

Yuna who was arm-in-arm with Maester Seymour replied politely, "It was long but I liked it."

While Kelk, Kinoc and Mika were conversing with other at the lodging lobby, the Ronso guard took Seymour's and Yuna's baggage and led them to their room. The guard said, "Jumb hopes Maester Seymour and Lady Yuna to enjoy stay here."

"Of course we will." Seymour said, giving him a formal crooked smile as the tall dark blue-furred Ronso led them through the carved stone corridors.

Opening the massive wooden door, first removing its bolt, Jumb stood aside and bowed his great head watching Seymour and Yuna go in. Then he quietly shut the door and went off.

Seymour smiled as Yuna waltzed around the spacious room in delight.

"It's huge. I thought the Ronso boat had large rooms but this!" She looked up and around slowly in awe.

The ceiling was predictably high, for an adult Ronso (though not too common) could be as tall as ten feet. Yuna felt as though she was a child again, when the furniture was disproportionately large.

"Strange is it not? In a good way I mean. Very refreshing." Seymour commented sitting himself down into an armchair draped with rugged fiend's fur.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

At the dinner hall, Kelk Ronso said, addressing all who were present that night, "The Guado and Ronso traditionally have been enemies in folklore, but now during this crises we come together as one. Where each race is lacking, the other will help."

All were in silent agreement as they ate. Guadosalam and Gagazet seemed to be hotspots now for vigilantes and the A.Y.G. (anti-Yevon Group). Presumably because they were the homes of two non-human maesters.

Although no more were dying, the home lands of these two races were forced to be barricaded for security. For the Ronso, presently towering walls of ice covered the entrances and exits. Metres thick. Still, they were not without style. Ice statues. On the external sides of the walls, colossal, white, shimmering crystalline figures of fierce Ronso warriors bearing their teeth and weapons stood there challenging all intruders. On the insides facing the young and the old, were gentle figures of Ronso sages with their shining horns held high, with differing gestures of reassurance that all was safe. A traditional one in times of war meaning; "never fear," with one paw raised up with the palm facing forward.

When Yuna asked what it meant, a Ronso nearby told her that it was part of their culture. To show that although none were allowed out because of the dangers all around, it was a strong reminder that it was a safe haven and not a prison.

"Let us hope that the conflict will be resolved soon." Said Maester Kelk Ronso.

**End of Chapter 29**

••••••••••••••••

**This is dedicated,**

**to the ones I love...**

(More like those who have faved this story)

bahamutchar, Blue-Huntress, Bright Lotus, City-of-Dimes, dad8122, Darkangel Guard, DeathAngelsEriiko, DestinyStarX, Empress of Irony, fancyrubydionna, Forever Child-ish, Foreveralone16, frailynxdresden, Innocent Dimande, Inochi no Fushigi, Kick-It-Aus Style-Mal's, LennethxValkyrie, littleseren, Manga Girl number,mirror alchemist, Necrosame, Pickamandy, rattlesnakedefender, Rogue Requiem, Shironami, Shweta, shyshion, starry34, Stay Undefined, Supon, Takhira, Tohru Adachi, Vanguarde, x-LittleMissSunshine-x

_The review button somehow feels _**really**_ attractive now...._

••••••••••••••••••


	30. She Lied

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X fan-fic

CHAPTER THIRTY

--

As part of a commemoration to remember this war, and to build further trust between the two races, outstanding warriors were to be exchanged. Ronso were sent to Guadosalam and vice versa. To make sure that morale stayed, those in the exchange were encouraged to bring along their families.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Having their last dinner there, Seymour sat watching Yuna eat. As she enjoyed the cool air and the spiced meat he smiled a secret smile. Really, he was very happy to have her love him. With her, he felt less angry and impetuous. Less likely to have one of his baver episodes. He loved everything about her. Now he watched her smile speaking to a Ronso pup offering her a bowl of ochu soup, her white hand ruffling the child's head. Her scent was of slight unease being in an unfamiliar place, at the same time of confidence. The half-breed hoped it was because he was there that she felt so, him. Her pillar of strength.

"Seymour, are you okay?"

"It's nothing my dear." He smiled, as he continued cutting his juicy behemoth steak.

Matching their gigantic Ronso bodies, the servings at the rocky half-open dinner hall were intimidating. A single serving could feed three men. And that was just a starter salad serving. For the lion-like race, conversing across the food-laden table was no problem. But for a Yevonite... Yuna now understood why Seymour had strongly suggested sitting side-by-side instead of face-to-face. Food was at eye level. They would be talking to ribs, steaks and potatoes for the entire snowy evening if they sat across from each other.

"Is all fine with Maester and Lady Summoner?" Asked a Ronso touching his horn. "Arnek has ale."

"I'd like some ale please. Thank you." Replied Yuna.

To keep their human guests warm, they added more coal than usual to their fire. As a tough and practical race, their fires ran along both sides of the hall in a trough-like stone structure, serving triple for cooking, warmth and light.

"Seymour," asked Yuna, "will you be staying long with us in Besaid?"

"For you I will, but immediately I must return to Guadosalam. There is much I must do." The Guado said apologetically, he regretted seeing the disappointment in her eyes briefly. But being the cheerful thing that she was, that look disappeared almost immediately to one of understanding.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"Come on Auron!" Yelled Tidus. "Give me your best!"

"Your confidence amazes me." Was the cool reply, followed by a very hard swing with his heavy katana.

The sun flashed off Auron's katana, while making Tidus' translucent Brotherhood glitter. Attacks and blocks went faster and faster. Tidus although fighting as a blur, was still no match for the red warrior's endurance to hits and strength.

"Wow. He's improved ya?" Wakka said to Lulu who was standing next to him on the beach.

"Well, what do you know? He has!" Lulu replied, shaking her head slowly in approval.

"Last time he couldn't even hold Chappu's sword right." Wakka laughed.

"I wonder if he'll get cocky when Yuna and Maester Seymour return." Lulu wondered out loud.

"We'll find out ya?" Wakka nudged Lulu's arm sportingly.

As expected, Yuna and Seymour came the following early afternoon, this time on a Ronso sea craft.

Lulu and Wakka were watching their newest family member (Tidus) to see when he would do what he does best; show off.

Three days of Auron's brutal training passed when Tidus finally came up with the guts to challenge Lord Seymour to a duel. It was right after Seymour had a match with Sir Auron, their strengths were well-matched. Auron won in skill, but when it came to brute physical power, the Guado took the cake.

Wakka, Lulu and Yuna were sitting nearby in the shade near the beach. Wakka smirked and winked at Lulu, who gave a small smile when they saw Tidus stroll up to Seymour and knocked Seymour's red stave with his sword.

The blond teenager grinned and said, "C'mon! Let's make a racket!"

"I wish I could hear what they're saying..." Said Yuna with her hand over her mouth smiling.

"We won't need to, the watching will be betta." Replied Wakka, squinting with his hand shading his eyes because the sun shone starkly off the white sand.

Auron grunted and stepped away from the two.

"I must say that you're very bold." Seymour turned his stave slowly in his clawed hand. The heat was too much for him, and he took to going about topless, in a traditional Guado talmek.

To Tidus, the Guado reminded him somewhat of his father Jecht. The long hair and tattoos on Seymour's back and chest did that for him. "Sure I am. Here I come!" He jumped and his attack was swiftly blocked.

"And here you go!" Relayed Seymour, hooking his stave onto the blond's sword and pulling hard.

Tidus held on tight to his sword however, was lifted off the sand and was airborne a few moments before landing on his feet. He swung again, "Take this!" He was unceremoniously blocked again. He jumped and soared over the maester's head, then attacked from behind.

Seymour was impressed. The boy was fast, and very agile. He winced as he received a blow on his shoulder, before he blocked again. He noticed however, Tidus' attacks had minimum resonance. Unlike the crimson warrior, his hand did not go numb every time be blocked a strike. He turned and attacked.

Tidus blocked in time, reeling with the force of that stroke. His blue watery sword glittered each time it was hit. He wondered how long he could keep his speed up. Although his opponent did not block every hit, he could still keep on coming!

The half-breed gritted his teeth and swung his weapon upwards, and then suddenly downwards. Tidus keeled over at the downward-cut, and recovered. It was all Seymour needed. He took his chance at the opening, and succeeded. One strike, and the boy was finished.

"Whoa, Seymour." Gaped Tidus sitting on the sand. "You are one strong dude!" He flexed his numb fingers. It was as though he could still feel in his bones, each stroke of the maester's metal stave. It did not shock as hard as Auron's did, but had a strange after-effect, he felt as though he was pushed in the direction of the Guado's strokes after each time he blocked.

"Your tactics are as flashy as your sword." Nodded Seymour in return, one corner of his mouth curling upwards.

"You are gonna rock when we fight Sin!!!" Exclaimed Tidus in awe. "Glad we got you on our side man."

"What?" Asked Seymour, confused. Had the bright and hot sun gotten to him?

"Don't you know? We're gonna fight Sin when Auron says we're ready!" Seeing the uncertain expression of his combatant he elaborated, "That's why Auron got the summoners out, didn't Yuna tell you?"

Seymour very suddenly felt cold despite the sun shining overhead, as though he had Blizzaga cast right into him. He would not believe it. The boy had to be lying. He inhaled the air, and through the salty smell of the cystal clear sea... the blond was not lying. There was no sly scent of deception.

"Uh, you okay?" Asked Tidus, standing up and dusting the sand off his odd shorts.

Seymour blinked before replying, as his heart broke. "I'm fine, if you will excuse me." He went away to collect his thoughts, as he put on a brave front, waving at Yuna sitting far away.

He walked to an area that was shaded with the lush green tropical vegetation. His heart was restless and agitated, it was beating harder than usual. His hand tightened over his weapon. So! Yuna had lied to him! She promised that she would not, would never go and fight Sin, and give her life!

While they were all still training at the beach, he went back to Yuna's cloth tent and wrote a letter. He would have to act as normal as possible so as not to arouse any suspicion in his intentions.

_Tromell,_

_Somehow I have made it through Sir Auron's demanding physical training. We would rise at the_

_crack of dawn, and begin training immediately. We would only stop for meals. No_

_matter how much our bodies ached and protested, he forced us to continue. All the way until the sun sets beyond the sea._

_I estimate eleven hours of training everyday. I daresay that I have improved in hand-_

_to-hand combat. However four days of non-stop fiend fighting has taken its toll._

_I am weary and sunburnt, and there is the more important matter of supervising our Ronso guests._

_Send a Guado craft to Besaid, there has been a change of plans. I intend to return to Guadosalam as soon as possible._

_Seymour_

Going outside once again in the sun, he called a young monk from the nearby temple and gave the boy a few hundred gil to have his letter delivered. The boy made the sign of Yevon in a practised manner, perfect in form as expected of a disciple of Yevon and said, "Thankyou Maester Seymour." Before running off.

••••••••••••••

This chapter is dedicated to

**Hikari5412**

– For that morale boosting review.

So far, this is the shortest chapter in N&P... Sorry for that!

The next will be a long one. (I'll try my best.)


	31. In Fayth: Lightning & Ebony

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X fan-fic

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

--

"Welcome back master Seymour!" Tromell bowed opening the door of the mansion for his charge. "I trust that the trip back was a pleasant one?"

"All and very well Tromell." Was the reply in his standard flat tone.

Seymour went to take a shower, then he went to Mesmir's stables to meet Mesmir. Yes. Guadosalam had changed alot. It used to be more airy there at the stables, but now. Next to the place, was a new and very large barn-like structure. Around here and there were poisonous plants. (Well, at least poisonous to humans.)

There was a Ronso, one of the most muscled and tall Seymour had ever seen, was leaning back on a bench comfortably, with a roasted chocobo leg in his clenched paw. At the sight of Seymour, the Ronso stood up at attention.

He put his navy blue paw holding the chocobo drumstick behind his back, and saluted Seymour by touching his pointed horn. "Greetings Maester Seymour."

"As you were." Said Seymour, looking up. "You should be exploring Guadosalam and socialising. Why are you here?"

The Ronso shuffled his feet and scratched his white mane awkwardly. "Bazuu not want to scare Guado pups on street."

Seymour almost raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I see."

The massive Ronso's expression brightened as he met Seymour's eyes again, "But tomorrow Bazuu promises to bring mate and pups to Guado fruit and confectionary market."

"Enjoy yourself and let your family adjust. I trust your accommodation is satisfactory?" Seymour asked in his level and smooth voice.

"Tree house is very nice. Ronso make friends and allies. But not let guard down, is dark times." Replied Bazuu gruffly. "Gairen now in town, exploring with wife. Gairen suggest to Bazuu that Ronso pups join Guado pup school if Maester Seymour allows."

"Granted. My younglings will anticipate their company." Seymour bade farewell, and went into the barn. Where venomous plants were being grown. Already walls of thorns covered the entrances to Guadosalam. To get in, one would have to pass guards with fiend handlers.

It was strangely contrasting with their opposites the Ronso. The Ronso saw war as as a means to prove their bravery and valour, taking huge pride in it. Whereas the Guado, who were peaceful and conservative changed in the face of war. It showed starkly. Suddenly they had no more elegance and grace in the situation, their defences had no beauty or form, the hard, spiky, curling roots and vines which served as barricades all around had no aesthetic appeal unlike the ice carvings of the sacred Ronso mountain. It was a different feeling, of cruelty and bitterness. But nevertheless, the outer defences of both races had in common; the quality of intimidating the enemy.

Mesmir Guado was holding a watering can and attending to tiny trundling ochu. They were walking all over the place, their "mouths" if you could say, were gaping as he poured the water over them. He turned his head and said, "Kemplar went to Gagazet."

"I had proposed it." Seymour said. "He wanted a change of environment, and he trusts that his disciples can handle whatever misfortune happens here.

Mesmir passed Seymour a watering can, and pulled up his leather sleeves. Seymour did likewise with his satin robes, and they both tended to the infant ochu. "Funny, that even fiends start from babies to fully fledged monsters."

Mesmir nodded. "Very much like being born again, just as a fiend... Some of these are the pyre flies of the anti-Yevonites who attacked us." He sighed. "I never knew... that all those ancient books in our military library will be opened again. It has been a few hundred years since the last war..."

Seymour was not listening with his full attention. Within, he thought about what he needed to do. He would give Yuna the ultimate present, he would make sure that she would be truly bound to him, and him to her forever and ever. But first he would have to make up some story on why he needed to confine himself in Macalania temple.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"My Lord?" Mumbled priest Wenex uncertainly, his mouth wry.

"Matter of temple security Wenex. Do you doubt my judgement?" Seymour's voice resounded in the completely silent halls of the temple. No-one had been allowed in, not even worshippers as of late. The same thing was happening in other parts of Spira. It was by order of grand Maester Mika. To protect both the temple of Yevon, and believers alike.

The priest bowed. "Forgive my doubt. I was just simply concerned."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

There was news on Sin. Now it came again, hovering over the sea like the huge aquatic-like creature that it was.

**Sin Sighted**

**The source of Spira's suffering has appeared. Finally over the sea of Besaid.**

**The summoners are still no-where in sight to save us, or fight off this horror.**

**The public is now a mess, vigilantes have ganged up with the Anti-Yevon group.**

**The multitude of attacks have been increasing rapidly.**

**Although no sin spawn has been falling from Sin, its presence has been unsettling.**

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"This is daft. This war is unnecessary and pointless..." Muttered Healer Kemplar. He had chosen a warm cave, high up on the face of the cliff of Mt Gagazet to be his infirmary. A Ronso couple slumbered together on a thick matt. Their wounds did not heal well, and were slightly infected. Other than that, he was pleased with their progress. He shivered, pulling his silk linen coat up his neck.

At the far side of the warm rock cave, rested a warrior with a fractured leg. His back was against the wall, his orange eyes half-closed. "Healer thank you. Ronso not like admit... but Guado medicine is far superior."

"You're welcome." Returned Kemplar nodding his head.

"Is enemy army gone?" Mewed a Ronso pup, clutching a furry blanket while sitting on carved rock, close to a hollow serving as a glowing fire place.

"Not to worry child." The healer smiled. He marvelled at this race's high pain tolerance. Children of any other race would be reduced to tears. "Go back to sleep."

Heshmal, the little red-haired Guado whose family was picked for the exchange sat with his injured friend. "It's okay to cry." He said.

The pup blinked, shook his head and said, "Kas promise papa to be brave. Not weep."

Kemplar went back to grounding medicinal herbs. As a healer, he most disliked seeing his fellows get injured. But he _hated_ seeing children get hurt, it was the most disgusting thing even in war for an enemy to do. The same went for the old. It was immoral and cowardly, to attack one weak and helpless.

Most attacks they faced were random and nothing massive. Yet.

"Heshmal, play with Kas!" Offered the pup pushing his blanket aside, holding up an iron doll in the shape of a fat fish.

Heshmal's ruby eyes widened. "Are you sure that's a toy? That looks dangerous!"

"Is Kas' favourite toy." The pup held it closer to Heshmal, showing his Guado friend how it could move because of its mobile parts.

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"Be steady Yuna. You all will be ready soon." Sir Auron was sharpening his sword on a stone, his face more set than usual.

"Sir Auron I hope that–" Isaaru began, his expression grim in the light of the camp fire. He shivered and pulled his elaborate robes about himself.

"We will bring an end to Sin's terror before the people destroy themselves. I keep time." Auron thought about his secret meeting with Jecht in his terrible form months before at the sea.

"It still feels so unreal. Like a dream..." Lady Donna hugged herself.

Rikku for once was silent, looking at Auron. It was completely unbelievable, that all her father Cid had stood for would finally come true. Yet, at the same time she felt so much fear that it would all fail. Then everything would be exactly the same. Then she heard the familiar gentle voice of her cousin sitting next to her.

"Are you okay?" Yuna rubbed Rikku's shoulder.

Rikku replied that she was fine, just tired and worried.

Tidus was quiet, his doubts had been removed from asking Auron many times how sure the veteran was at this.

The slow and deep voice of Kimahri sounded, "Kimahri worried."

Wakka was not there at the fire, having gone to his tent to sleep. Auron had insisted on it, for he had worked very hard and had not stopped with his blitzball training at the same time. Auron threatened that he might fall ill, and "miss the fun" in the time to come.

Lulu was seated next to Kimahri, and concerned of his comment, (so out-of-character for him) placed her hand on his craggy paw and said, "We all are Kimahri. What are you worried about?"

"After war... what happen to Spira."

"A new order, and end to this technological and moral stagnation." Was the single and confident sentence from the revered red warrior.

All of them, sat in silence with their thoughts. Thinking, contemplating. The sounds of the zephyrs blowing the palm trees, the crickets singing in the grass though so soft, was loud at the same time. It was a strange feeling of steadiness, so sure and silent that the stars above could be heard twinkling.

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Kilika temple was on fire. Soon it would be burning to the ground, and no-one would be able to receive the fiery aeon which resided within its once hallowed stone and marble cloister. In the night, red points of ash floated in the smoke and suffering.

A priest screamed in agony, as a monk nearby was stabbed dead with a spear. The anti-Yevon army moved with prejudice, and without any second thoughts or regret. Not even the children learning Yevon were spared. They were the first to be caught and sliced apart, or gunned down. Red, bleeding, and by tomorrow, rotting since there were no summoners to send them to the Farplane.

Bevelle was not even notified of this, the letters and messages would arrive. But it would be too late. There would be fiends. Dozens of them.

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"My Lord?" Pescal called through the door of the manor's bedroom.

"Enter." Seymour called, more softly than usual.

The door creaked, as Pescal in his gold-lined uniform stepped in bearing a tray with port. "Are you well?"

Seymour was reclining on the maroon daybed near the window. The translucent curtains were drawn closed, and it was raining outside. "Feeling under the weather, but well enough. Tell Tromell not to fuss."

After placing the tray on a wooden side table, Pescal put his knuckles on Seymour's palm to check his body temperature. Pescal shook his purple-haired head. "You smell depressed my lord. Did something happen?"

Seymour sighed abit, turning his face lethargically to Pescal's. "Just an ordinary affair with one's wife."

Pescal bowed and left the room.

A few minutes later, the effects of the drink came on at its peak. Seymour got up slowly and made his way to Macalania temple. Once more he sat in the room with all his alchemist's equipment. The cold had kept all that was there fresh and ready. It was all complete, and he was certain that there was not a thing out of place. There was no expression on his face, no life in it.

He sat on that solitary chair in the room, his heart broken. She lied to him, she promised! She promised that she would not go and let herself be taken by Sin! How could she... High, his eyes began to tear. He did not want her to die, he did not want to lose her. But then... it was her decision.

He would then die with her. He looked at the vial in his massive hand and held it up to the light. Would it work...? His heart felt heavy with apprehension, although it was so cold, he felt hot and breathed through his mouth. He held the small thing between his index claw and his thumb claw. The liquid was partially transparent, a purple and cloudy suspension. It would either work, or it would be poison. There was no time to check, and he did not care to do so. He felt too impulsive.

"Yuna. I love you." He uncorked the bottle and cringed at the sensation of the solution. It went right through, it felt as though it burnt the inside of his lungs. Everything was blurred as his eyes watered, so sharp and scary. He wanted to scream, but his throat seized with pain and numbness.

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There was a thunderstorm raging outside. While everybody else too shelter at Besaid, Auron was far, very far from the shore. As the screaming wind whipped his clothing and body, he felt none of the cold or touch of it.

The sky was grey, the greyness seeped into the colour of the sea, and the only colour around complimenting the shades of grey was the white caps, the foam of the waves and brine.

Sand, water. It was all the same to him. Auron took off his shades and looked up. There was his friend. Jecht. Auron could not see him, could not speak or hear him. But he knew, Sin was Jecht, what was left of his friend was pathetic and wretched. If there was hell, Auron was sure what Jecht was experiencing was it.

"Yu Yevon knows doesn't he...?" Shouted Auron.

The surface of Sin writhed and opened in places, as if they were diseased pores. Spawn hung from its skin, attempting to twist free from their prison of flesh, whining harsh and vicious cries.

"It won't make a difference Jecht! We'll win like we swore to!" Auron took out his sword and rested it across his shoulders roaring through the pounding rain, his face drenched and shining. "Help is ready! We move when Yu does!"

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

_TWO WEEKS LATER_

They found out that Guadosalam was under attack a few days ago. No-one was allowed out when Kilika was being burnt down, and for Sir Auron Guadosalam made no difference to his equation.

Yuna was going to go mad with worry. In the nights she thought constantly of her husband. He was not replying her letters, even many days before the forest town of Guadosalam got attacked.

Auron was not telling them everything. When Spawn was appearing more and more frequently with no sight or idea of their source, he still said nothing.

Besaid was safe. Aeons along with their summoners made very sure of that. In the midst of the confusion and battle, Yuna ran with Rikku to an airship hidden up in the dreary jungle foliage. Other than the ship used to bring the summoners here, Cid and Brother salvaged another from the depts of the ocean.

This shiny and polished ship was small, and enough for at the most five people.

"Yunie, to heck with what Auron said, we're going to see my cousin's husband!"

"You know how to fly?"

"Sure I do!"

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"All right Yunie hang on, we're here."

The bottom of the ship was made of tempered glass, and they both could see the treetops of Yuna's present home. It was smoking, even through what the airship's engine did to distort its surroundings it was very clear that grey smoke was coming from a few spots.

Yuna covered her mouth, as her cousin said that everything would be all right.

"Make sure that they can see you Yuna!" Cried Rikku as she steered the ship closer to the ground to land.

"Lady Yuna! Thank the gods that you have returned!" A soldier said, helping her and Rikku our of the streamlined airship. The soldier stared for a moment before bowing to them. "Lord Seymour has not come out of the temple for many days! Come with me!"

"What? Why?" Called Yuna as they ran after the soldier.

"The area is safe, only the perimeters of Guadosalam are under attack, none of the anti-Yevon army has penetrated! Do not worry, we hope that you can persuade Lord Seymour to come out! He has barricaded himself within his temple room!"

Around the area Yuna's presence was noticed and welcomed quickly, due to the action happening.

Rikku ran with her cousin asking, "What's wrong, why are you so scared?"

The floor turned from roots and moss, to snow and ice as they ran non-stop to Macalania temple. Guado soldiers and fiend handlers made way crying loudly their lady's return. In the temple, their footsteps were hollow and loud. Something felt very much amiss.

Before Yuna and Rikku was the door. Yuna called, scared and fearing the worst. "Seymour! Seymour please come out!" She banged her fists on the door, the handle would not budge. "Seymour!" She called again. "Rikku, run down to the house and tell Tromell and Pescal that I am back. Get help!"

When Rikku ran off, a priest came and tried his best to calm the distressed Yuna. "Please my lady, calm down your voice is more likely to appeal to him than your fists hitting the door. Do not hurt yourself, we have tried to get him out, but he stopped answering a day or so ago. We do not know what is it he has been doing in there."

Yuna was panicking, and did not wait for her anxiety to get worse. She called her aeon Ifrit to take down the door.

The resulting hole was small, but large enough for Yuna to crawl through. Inside, Yuna called for him. The table with his equipment was broken, glass was crushed beneath it, and liquids all frozen on the floor were everywhere. "Seymour, where are you?"

Yuna crept to the door of the adjoining room, and cautiously opened it. The metal handle was very cold to the touch, but the door creaked open easily. When she stepped into the small room, she screamed and then threw her small hands over her open mouth.

A massive black behemoth lay on its side on the marble floor. Its muscles rippling through its velvet skin with each labouring breath it dragged in, if it were to breathe in deeply enough its ribs would touch the ceiling.

It was an aeon, Yuna was certain of it. The behemoth had horns of blue and violet, with bright sapphire stripes trailing along its form, like streaks of lighting flashing within an ebony sea. In awe, she looked closer at the beast's face squinting through its wavering foggy breath. She walked round its still paw, the behemoth's muzzle at chest-level.

It would have been so beautiful and magnificent, if she did not see its blue pupil-less eyes. Its misty eyes were unmistakable. It was Seymour.

**End of Chapter thirty-one**

••••••••••••••

The roast chocobo leg is dedicated to Lucrecia. Well, dead fiends though apparently

sick, is what is mostly on the menu... (What else is there to eat?) Plus,

"Behemoth Steak" is something that appears here and there in the

Final Fantasy series.

And to my dear readers, my deepest affection to you all.


	32. Bleeding Heart

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X fan-fic

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

--

"Seymour!" Yuna sobbed, her eyes welled up in tears. "What have you done?!" She fell onto his muzzle, and pounded her fists on it. "Answer me!"

There came no reply, the behemoth only blinked slowly once and then its shining eyes went back to being half-closed. It too began to cry, opening its mouth slightly to breathe better. Its breath came in a white cloud in the cold air.

Yuna slid down, and pressed her head against its hard black cheek. "What have you done..." Her voice now soft and in surrender. Even though it the temperature was freezing, it did nothing to cool the emotion running down her face.

It gave out a mournful groan that shook the room. The side of its face and spiky mane was upon the floor, not having moved at all since Yuna came into the room.

"Speak to me!"

Again it let out a groan, this time louder and more despairing. As it did so its white fangs could be seen along with very dark gums and its slack red tongue. Yuna ran her hand over the wet patches of fur, she knew that she had no choice. She had to pray, concentrate and reach out to this aeon. In her mind, she heard his tender and smooth tenor voice.

_"... Yuna... I am sorry. But now I can be your aeon, I can protect you. I will go wherever you may go."_

"Why?"

_"To be with you, even in death. I am your final aeon. Yuna, do you not know that I love you so..._?"

"You thought I was still going to die for Sin? No it's not true!"

_"Still.... It is too late. I swear no-one else will have my aeon. Only you."_

Yuna had her eyes closed, both her hands on the warm cheek of her husband. His mind was fainter, so much less human! More emotion, less reason or logic. She could not control her overwhelming grief that was all around and passionately unrelenting. There was nothing that she could do.

They stayed that way for what felt like eternity, listening to the shouts and sounds of battle raging on outside. The vibrations of it reached the chamber, it could be felt faintly off the solid marble floor.

Then, there were loud shouts, a loud noise. The side of the room cracked, and more shouts. Calling for Maester Seymour and Lady Yuna. There was danger approaching, yet Yuna did not feel threatened. Neither she nor her husband budged an inch from their positions, different externally, but still spiritually one.

_"Yuna... It is unsafe, I will not let harm befall you."_

"I don't want to move," she prayed childishly. "Please, let's stay like this. I need you here, I can't move."

The wall at one side came down in ice and shattered stone. The aeon moved, although half-formed its strength emanated from it. Yuna sensed wave after wave of it, sensing the force of the unseen pyre flies contained in it.

_"My name is Ark. Command me Yuna."_

She was giddy from praying to Seymour's fayth. Kneeling on the floor, she steadied herself on Ark's paw. Both struggled to get up, their minds infused together, yet nothing was clear, a mist hung over their consciousness slowing down thought and awareness. Which world was real or unreal was unknown to them.

Shouts and gasps from Guado soldiers came from the mist of their minds. Yuna smelt their sadness and shock. Of harrowing denial and grief.

_"Use me."_ Came his soft voice in her consciousness.

The feeling, it was the same as when they had danced together on the surface of the water. The same when they attuned their senses as summoners together. She felt his anger, his passion. His everything. Now she heard in her ears, the sound of a heart beating. She saw as her husband stood up, a hollow in his muscular chest, through bone a hole. In it was a great red heart, split down its chambers fresh and undulating.

_"Yuna, use me."_

Again she concentrated deeper, manipulating the pyre flies. Now she felt what Ark was like. His power was heavy, smothering and imprisoning. It was gravity. "Ark," she commanded, "use Gravaja." She still could see his broken bloody heart in her mind's eye. She knew it was she who had broke it.

They both stepped out of the room without trouble, the place half blown apart by bombs. The anti-Yevonites poured in through the temple doors. They screamed and fell upon the ground, in their stifling armour. When Ark roared, their flesh was torn off their bones crashing right onto the snow in patches of red gelatinous organic matter.

Ark stood unsteadily, swaying in a manner as if drunk. His breaths came slow, deep and steaming. His head was hanging from his heaving bulky shoulders, his horns and mane seeming very cumbersome.

"It's a half-formed aeon! Fight it!" Came a shout.

Yuna concentrated once more, and Ark stepped forward. She felt fear, but knew that Seymour would protect her. He raised his head, the bright rivers of blue on his muscled hide disappeared at each moment he assaulted the enemy with his gravity. The summoner and new aeon wept together, at their predicament, at this needless killing of fellow men.

More bodies in armour fell apart, bursting like over-ripe fruit.

She thought to him, "Seymour, I can't go on..." She was still giddy from praying to his fayth, and receiving his aeon. Nothing was clear to her, vision was blurred with red and limp figures, noises were censored and muffled, the thing that most stood out was that she had lost her husband.

_"Yuna... You trust me. I will let nothing happen to you."_

A black paw laid next to her, half covered her. Yuna blinked, lying on the snowy floor. Ark was staring down at her with his blue eyes. She saw everything through a layer of frosted mist, she felt his stable and familiar warm reassurance. She fell asleep.

But sleep was not peaceful. Were they dreams? She could not tell.

When she woke up, the anti-Yevon soldiers had gone, only their blood stains remained, and the sky was darkening. Around them were a few Guado sentinels were keeping watch. A pair of bombs floated nearby, lighting the blue chilly area with their red glow.

"Lady Yuna, are you fine?" Asked a familiar violet-haired medic.

"Pescal..."

"The bond between you and Lord Seymour was too strong, we could not bring you to shelter." Began Pescal, holding her a warm drink. "We could not dismiss him either because he is but half-formed. "Your cousin and–"

"Yuna."

She recognised that rough voice. She looked up at a face always half hidden in his collar, eyes behind black shades.

"We have to go. There's no more time." Sir Auron announced firmly. He lay an elixir down next to her hand. As if he could read her mind, he said raising his greying head, "Your husband can't come with us." Auron looked at the black mass lying on its side.

"I know." Yuna whispered regrettably.

Pescal helped Yuna up, she uncorked the elixir and drank it all down. As she was leaving, the black behemoth groaned and shifted, his horn scraping the snow.

She prayed, "I'll come back Seymour. I promise." Yuna held the coral and citrine beads around her neck.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Emotions soared, as did fear and despair. At Besaid, the clouds grew black and heavy descending onto the island and sea. At the beach, the colours of nature all dull and sombre around them, the summoners stood. They were the first rebels in a thousand years. Before this all foolishly gave their lives for the final aeon. For Sin to consume and rebuild that armour again and again, finally the truth was known, and those who did not believe were either killed or ignored. Still, the fighting raged for the new order that Yevon was all lies.

Nothing was tranquil. The wind was howling, the sand stirred, the trees bent over, shuddering from the force of the winds. The feeling was of undeniable destiny.

They had spread word all over the place, for people all over Spira, to stand if they lived near the sea, at beaches singing the song of the fayth. If they lived away from the sea, then they stood on top of their homes or on hills. That night, all of Spira sang loud and clear that haunting and yet beautiful song to the stars in the heavens. And even if they were still fighting unbelievers, they sang as they fought. There were only two sides on Spira. One believing in Yevon, the other searching for the truth.

On cue at Besaid, Sin came. Appearing on the shining horizon of the ocean, before the sinking orange sun. Closer and closer it came upon the rolling waves, and then a few leagues away, it stopped.

Spira's summoners concentrated and began to step forward upon the writhing black waters, overhead shone the gold stars and moon. Their guardians reunited with them, stayed behind ready on the shores.

Tidus was standing next to Auron on the beach, humming softly along the hymn of the fayth.

"This is your moment." Auron turned to him. "This is the conclusion of your story."

The blonde gripped his sword, the Brotherhood and nodded once. His lip in a grim line. The night was so charged and tense, he believed and did not care that he was a dream himself by the fayth. Worries of disappearing after he defeated his father was overshadowed by what he had to do, and yet he trembled.

Rikku was a little ways off, with Wakka and Lulu.

"Lulu?" Asked Rikku, rubbing her hands together.

"Yes?"

"I'm scared!"

Wakka shook his head and wiped sweat from his brow, "Well wadda' ya think? So am I!"

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"Enemy is strong." Growled a she-Ronso, driving a long lance into the face of an armoured rebel. It went right through his protective face mask.

"Brothers and sisters, we fight to death!" Roared Biran.

The fighting Ronso stood their ground, pushing their attackers away from the gates of Mt. Gagazet. Behind them the ice statues or Ronso warriors for war towered above, crystalline and ever-impressive. Pure white and clean, unlike where their sculptors were fighting.

Yenke kicked out hard at a rebel in the knee, making it bend backwards and breaking the rebel's joint. He slapped his thigh and laughed after throwing the man away, "Is glorious view of ice Ronso statue faces not enough? Must come near to see real Ronso face?"

Warriors bloodied whilst fighting who could hear Yenke's joke roared with laughter. An old male in literal response, butted his long horn (for it is a known fact that a Ronso's horn lengthens as he ages) through the chest of a soldier just about to shoot his machina weapon, and tossed him off the cliff with a sharp turn of his thick neck. "Ronso face." He repeated, his horn dripping blood.

From the high inner cliffs on the face of Mt. Gagazet, Healer Kemplar, Kas and Heshmal could see the fighting from their make-shift infirmary. Kemplar poured hot tea for a warrior earlier knocked out sitting on a bed of straw.

A Ronso, the one who had earlier complimented Guado medicine, with his wife sitting by the fire said, "Guado pup. Not worry. Ice wall will hold. Tempur help build, Tempur knows."

"Wow." Heshmal said in a small voice his red eyes big with wonder, passing him a cup of herbal tea. "You helped build that?"

Kemplar smiled at the male's ploy to draw attention away from the war going on outside. The smell of it, he could smell the death and pain all the way at that spot. It was sour and rancid. He tried to ignore it, and instead listened to the singing that was just starting.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"I can see Sin Spawn coming down over here!" Wakka yelled, spinning his blitz ball on his finger.

**End of Chapter 32**

••••••••••••

Dear readers, I sincerely apologise for the time taken for me to update. I had a run in with health problems and a sudden change of lifestyle.

The review button calls you to click it and reprimand me with encouragement.

_CLICK IT_.

This chapter is dedicated to

wolfdemon22

Manga Girl number 6

and

forbiddenfantasy

Yes. I took damn long to update. Come on, encourage me to go faster, I need it!


	33. The Horror Of Sin

**DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.**

**NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION**

A Final Fantasy X fan-fic

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

--

They were gross. Auron gripped his katana loosely, calm and unsurprised. He could tell, Yu Yevon hidden in that mass of dark grey flesh knew, for all his insanity and lack of reason that a mighty battle was solidifying before him. They were very gross! This "special" spawn swimming towards the shore, he was sure of it.

They were shelled cephalopods waving their slimy tentacles that stuck out of random holes, and as they drew closer the light from the twinkling stars revealed that their numerous lidless eyes were irregularly placed on their lop-sided heads. Sin made them in a hurry, and when hunks of meat melted off some of them like molten wax the theory was confirmed. These monstrosities lacked the eerie symmetrical beauty that usual spawn possessed.

With sand sticking onto their bodies they flopped and rolled onto the land. No-one waited to see how they would attack. Battle cries sounded.

Tidus was already swimming under the water, meeting the spawn head on in the aquatic front line, with Wakka and Rikku. Other blitzball players who were braver joined them in the dark churning water.

The most spectacular was the sight of the summoners walking upon the salt water, surrounded by their proud, rampant aeons. Here and there flashed fire, lighting and ice dancing on the water and static air.

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Far away from there, at Moonflow, the place was filled with people. The moon lilies lit the area, how unfortunate that the scene was an ugly one. The singing was loud and war-like, Guado fiend handlers and tamers tried their best to concentrate and keep the links they had with their fighting fiends.

Mesmir shouted with pain from the emotional loss of one of his dual horns. He ran forward with his short dagger and plunged it into enemy who was distracted by his recent kill.

The sounds of machina fire and explosives accompanied the hymn of the fayth in a strange hypnotic beat.

A Guado mage hurled Fira at a group of charging people, they cried out running helter-skelter black and ablaze.

A medic struggled with an injured comrade, dragging him away from smoking danger, he was tearing from frustration and fear for there was the very real possibility that he might not be able to get his friend back on time. Pyre flies were already emerging.

War veterans relished the challenge, while those still wet behind the ears quivered and listened orders shouted from their superiors.

With Mesmir was Salveg. As a machina explosive went off in the water, glowing yellow moon lilies soared through the air of the blue night, as the boiling water from lake came after them.

Salveg was doing pretty well with his three floating eye fiends, they trusted him and were responding to his orders, confusing enemies with their powers of hypnosis. The expert tamer would not let him take an ochu, it was not the time to risk something like that.

The tamers that had the great plant fiends, the 'Lords of the forests' as they liked to call them were going hysterically mad, with the emotions and scents that ravaged their senses from battle. Working so long with the ochu, they had become immune to their toxic pollen and strange dance.

"Steady on there!" Warned Mesmir, directing one of his chimaeras to block a strike from an on-coming enemy soaked in blood and mud from the lake. "Keep your heads!" Mesmir called out for the rest of the Guado to keep a distance from those with larger and more dangerous fiends. Although there was no friendly fire, he did not want anyone getting hurt by accident.

The ochu tamers could no longer tell if an enemy was dead or alive, they had the berserk condition. Corpses were repeatedly lashed at and mutilated, with skulls caved in and brains oozing out, shining in the dark night.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Upon the sea of Besaid, Sin floated, very close to the turning waves in the night. People could be heard singing the hymn, thousands of voices echoing from the north, south, east and west of the planet. The waves lunged onto the sands, always with the voice of the sea. But even the sea had to bend to the will of Sin.

It was like looking through the thick glass of a vessel, for the water of the sea surrounded Sin, Sin's glowing yellow eyes warping and going distorted behind the crystal clear waves.

"If we want to get through, we will have to freeze the water." Isaaru thought to Donna, their concentration steady and obsessive. They had no fear of dying, but now things were much more complex. The world was at stake, and millions of lives hung in the air like pyre flies. They could not afford to die. The summoners loved the people far too much for that.

A blast of wind threw off a sin spawn, a winged aeon hissed its triumph. Near it an equine aeon sent an arc of lighting, felling a writhing spawn causing it so sink in the water, trailing its brown blood after it.

"Isaaru, do not worry about them." Donna thought to him. She was standing upon the water a long distance off, just near enough for him to see her tan face, her long hair flying in the wind. "Our guardians are the best fighters we know."

"Yes, forgive my doubts." He thought, but he could not hide the despair he felt from her, and he knew she could sense it.

On the shore, Tidus fought. He fought hard, yelling as he swung his sword, the turquoise blade glittering through spawn blood. All he thought of, was killing the next monster, the next and the next after it, again and again. He was scared, his ears burning from the action and the conclusion of the battle. He did not care about the sand sticking to his knees, or how the sand felt in his shoes. His mind was on his father.

Auron cleaved a spawn's head right open, watching as gelatinous and steaming matter poured out of it. With indifference, he flicked his blackened blade of the filth and turned around. He held the blade steady in front of his face, as another abomination leaped at him cutting its face and committing suicide by accident. At that Auron smirked.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

At Bevelle the situation was like every other place on Spira. Madness, caused by the chaos of people fighting for their beliefs. Around the perimeter of the place, guards and monks valiantly fought.

In his executioner's black mask with his horn poking out, Naske Ronso's paw gripped his brown leather whip. Only now was that at the ends of it, were poisoned iron barbs. By Kelk's orders he was to stay here, and watch that none broke in. He was at the greenhouse of Highbridge, keeping a distance from Maester Mika.

The glass, and the shimmering sphere pool from above masked the noise of battle outside. The water cast a pale light on the green plants shining with dew. Mika sat on a stone bench near bending flowers, his hands raised and his wrinkled eyes closed. Although no-one told him, he knew what was going on. Sin was going to fall, finally although he would not believe it. Then there were more visions, he saw summoners walking on water as a storm billowed overhead. After all this was over, there was to be a revolution and the end of the religion of Yevon.

Naske stood taller than some of the little flower bushes, and from where he stood he could see Mika. He tensed his lower lip, wondering what it was that he could feel, what was it that Mika knew. Ronso knew only the arts of learning how to fight like fiends, but not of the life essence of Spira. Pyre flies.

Naske watched with his yellow eyes, nodding inwardly at the old man's ability to remain sharp, even as an unsent. His pointed ears pricked alertly when Mika called to him gently.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"Maester Kinoc!"

"Stop shouting and keep on fighting!" He yelled, his trigger finger for his machina weapon tired and sore. He was sweating more than ever now, and he found it hard to think.

"We won't be able to hold them off!"

"I know! Just stand as long as you can!" He ordered, reloading his weapon and casting aside a used bullet magazine. For a moment he just stood still there, watching from above the mess happening just a few dozen feet away. People battling, with faces sweating and contorted with rage, and in the dying and defeated, fear.

The entrance of Bevelle was now in ruins. Monks and soldiers stood there in the front line, sinning for the better good.

A loud and distinct Ronso's voice growled from behind. "Maester Kinoc."

A bang tore through the air causing everybody's ears to hum.

"Yes Naske." Replied the fat Maester without turning around, breathing deeply, his shoulders sagging from fatigue. He strained his ears trying to hear through the noises and wreckage.

"Maester Mika has message for you. Maester want you to go to Guadosalam, to check on Maester Seymour." Naske said through his black executioner's mask dutifully. "Naske and faithful Ronso brothers stand in."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

On the salty water, they had frozen at a side the water surrounding Sin. With conviction they bore a rough hole through the thick ice. Sin did not seem to notice.

Then they saw him by the light of the stars and moon, Sin. They had never come this close before, and they watched speechless as they saw the fear and suffering of Spira right before them. His dirty white, grey and black liquid skin stirring and blending around his numerous eyes, that looked as though they were sightless. The stories of Sin having a shell were debunked. By his aspect, they could tell Sin was truly a mindless minion, and the controller was somewhere safe inside it.

"Yuck." Said Donna.

**End Of Chapter 33**

This chapter is dedicated to the anonymous reviewers,

**Meiko**

&

**Josh**

••••••••••••••••••

Dear readers, I thank you all for your support. It's cool!

Whoa, I checked, and about 40+ people have faved this here story!

I'd better not let you all wait too long then!

Yours truly,

Master of Sorrow


	34. Chapter 34

Dear readers,

Forgive me here for taking ages! All right, I need to make sure I don't screw this up further. It's rushed, it's vague. My thanks to Meg (anonymous reviewer) for making me come to my senses.

Time for now will be spent reviewing past chapters, and where looks like it needs improvement I'll add it in.

Damn I think I need to even play Final Fantasy 10 all over again to get me the inspiration I need!!!

Dear readers, any suggestions for some inspiration here...?

*cusses that a large chunk of time is taken by work* I'm honest and straightforward. Come on! Encourage me!

Plus I'm liable to take a break from this and _if _allowed be a co-author in a Harry Potter thing. I NEED to get eloquent with words again. I've gone rusty these past months.

*re-reads story again in the meantime to get warmed right back up*


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